


Artfully Dead

by trishabooms



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 56,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishabooms/pseuds/trishabooms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story set in the world of Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse novels, with artist Jared Padalecki struggling to survive in NYC, at least until he meets the mysterious J D Morgan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artfully Dead

**New York City**

“For Chrissakes, man, will you stop fucking worrying and just get out of the car? The chauffeur dude’s waiting.”

Jared glanced guiltily at the uniformed man holding the limo’s door open for them and knew he had to move.

“I’m getting out,” he shot back at Chad defensively, but did as his friend said.

“If you let the receptionist know you’re here, Mr. Padalecki. Mr. Morgan is expecting you.”

Jared nodded at the chauffeur. “What about my work?”

“I’ll take it directly up in the freight elevator. It’ll be fine, sir, don’t worry.”

Chad punched his arm, hard. “The man knows what he’s doing.”

“It  _will_  be safe, Mr. Padalecki.”

He gave the man a nod of acceptance but couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to the limousine’s trunk, filled to capacity with the best of his work.

“Okay, thank you.”

He would have watched the man get in and drive to wherever the Morgan Building’s freight elevator was but Chad grabbed the worn sleeve of his denim jacket and steered him towards the building’s brightly lit entrance.

“Will you stop with the pulling and the hitting?”

“Soon as you stop acting like a ginormous pussy.” Chad gave him an assessing stare that made Jared squirm a little. “You up for this? I’d come in with you, man, I would, but...”

He understood. Chad was already antsy, body moving constantly, his fingers twitching, face more drawn than usual. His friend was an addict with a serious habit to feed.

“I’m okay,” Jared told him, hopefully sounding more confident than he felt.

“Too fucking true; you’re okay. This Jeffrey Morgan dude is gonna love your shit, man, I know he is.” Chad grinned then pulled him in for a tight hug that Jared returned. “Now get yourself in there, ‘kay?”

Jared gave his friend’s too thin back a tight squeeze, then released him. “I’m going. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll drag my ass ‘round sometime in the PM and we can celebrate.”

Jared gazed at the brightly lit Morgan building as his friend walked quickly away, collar of his jacket turned up against the rain swept night. He’d noticed the building before, even knew its name. Aesthetically, it was an exceptional piece of architecture, it’s distinctive design outstanding amongst the Manhattan skyline. 

He took a deep breath before making his way inside.

There was a companies’ listing board in the tasteful, Art Deco foyer of the building and Jared studied it carefully. The vast majority of the companies housed on the listed floors had Morgan as part of their name, though there were others that didn’t, including Anubis Air. He recognised that as the vampire airline.

Jared made his way over to the reception desk, his soaked tennis shoes squeaking on the marble floor. He hoped he wasn’t leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. His feet had gotten soaked while he was out doing his best to make his rent money by delivering flyers in the pouring rain. All that work, and the bastard who hired him refused to pay up, claiming he’d dumped the flyers. He’d been as close as he’d ever been to hitting another human being, but what good would that have done? The guy would probably have called the cops and, the way the day was going, Jared would have probably ended up spending a night in the jail. His daddy always said that was where he’d end up and he never wanted to prove him right, not ever. In the end, all he had for his trouble were feet rubbed raw by a set of sizeable blisters.

He took a seat after speaking to the receptionist, waiting nervously for someone to come down for him. He still had the letter that brought him here clutched in his hand, and for want of something better to do he opened it to read it through yet again. It was quality paper, expensive, white, with J.D Morgan Corporation and the address in embossed gold and black lettering. 

J.D. Morgan had bought ‘ _Ice in Sunlight_ ’, the last painting Jared’s former agent had managed to sell for him. The buyer had been anonymous, but the price had been okay and, between the odd jobs he’d managed to pick up--mainly thanks to Chad--and moving into his current shit hole apartment, he’d managed with his money in the six months since. At least until now. 

According to the letter, Morgan was eager to speak to him about the painting and discuss his work, if he’d care to bring his portfolio to the meeting. Jared had brought along just about everything he thought was decent.

It seemed odd having their meeting in the evening like this, but he guessed this Mr Morgan must be a pretty busy man. Not that Jared really cared, he’d have agreed to meet the man any time or anywhere he liked if it would get him another commission or a sale. He couldn’t afford to be fussy.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps.

“Mr. Padalecki?”

Jared’s eyes were drawn to the man’s mouth as he spoke, transfixed by the crease in the lush lower lip.

The lips twitched into a half smile and Jared blushed suddenly, aware he’d been staring at the man like an idiot.

“You  _are_  Jared Padalecki?”

“Sorry, yeah, I...” He swallowed. “That’s me.”

“My name is Jensen Ackles, I work for J.D Morgan. Would you care to follow me and I’ll take you up?”

The guy was fucking beautiful. There was just no other word to describe him. Plus he looked like he’d just stepped out of the pages of GQ in his dove grey suit, immaculate white shirt and pink striped tie.

Jared made sure his mouth was closed and gave Ackles a smile before getting to his feet and following him. He felt more than a little scruffy following along in his worn jeans and the jacket he’d picked up from Goodwill. However, once he was ushered into an ornate glass and copper elevator which rose quickly up the outside of the building, giving him a view of the city which literally took his breath away, and every other thought - other than a wish for camera - fell out of his head.

The elevator opened up into a large office made of what he was sure was polished granite. Its floor to ceiling windows gave yet another spectacular view of the city spread out below, drawing him like a magnet. He could have stayed there for an age looking out, and would have loved to be able to set up a canvas or perhaps use oil pastels on black paper to capture the beauty of the lights.

“Mr. Padalecki?”

He turned away at the sound of Jensen Ackles soft, deep voice.

“Sorry,” he apologized, turning his gaze away from the view to the man standing beside him. “The cityscape at night...” He shook his head, uncertain how to explain himself. “It’s just...”

“Incredible,” Ackles finished for him. “I know. I’d like to think that it far surpasses the view in the daylight.”

Jensen Ackles led him over to the black, lacquered desk which sat outside a pair of imposing looking double doors. An older woman, was seated behind it, wearing a tailored blue business suit, her chestnut hair swept up in an elegant chignon. The effect was quite stern until she looked up, greeting them with a smile that lit up her face.

“Gentlemen?”

Ackles smiled back, giving her a small nod of his head. “Mr. Padalecki, this is Samantha Ferris, Mr. Morgan’s P.A.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Padalecki, Mr. Morgan has been expecting you. He’s in the middle of a meeting right now, but it will only be brief. If you’d care to take a seat,” she invited, gesturing to the nearby couches. “He’ll let me know as soon as he’s free.”

Jared suddenly realized that his work wasn’t anywhere in the room, that he could see. He turned to Jensen Ackles. “Where are my portfolios? The chauffeur said he’d be bringing them up.”

“They were taken directly to Mr. Morgan’s office.”

He nodded, relieved. “That’s okay then, thank you.” He sat down on a soft leather couch, feeling his earlier nervousness return, together with his awareness of his own, shabby appearance in such lavish surroundings.

Ackles gave him a small nod of the head. “I’ll see you in a short while. If there’s anything you want, just ask Sam.”

“I’ll take good care of Mr. Padalecki,” she smiled.

Jensen let himself into Jeff Morgan’s office, knowing he would be almost through with his ‘brief meeting’. 

The scent of rich, arterial blood assaulted his senses the moment he walked through the door, causing his fangs to drop eagerly into place.

Jeff was on the couch, fangs deep in the neck of a stunning brunette who must have poured herself into her emerald Dior cocktail dress.

Jensen left him to it, strolling out onto the wide balcony and leaning against the steel rail. The earlier rain had stopped but the air was still damp. The lights of the city stretched out below, reflecting off the glossy street puddles and the rain slick surfaces of the buildings. The scent of feeding was diluted out here and he retracted his fangs with little effort.

After a few minutes he heard voices from inside Jeff’s soft baritone rumble a sharp contrast to the high, nasal accent of the girl. He could have listened in if he’d had the inclination, but his thoughts drifted to the young artist Jared Padalecki with his ill-fitting clothes and badly cut hair, who smelled of cheap soap, linseed oil and damp cloth. The body beneath them was tall, all long legs and broad shoulders. Maybe a little thinner than he should be, but that didn’t mean that Jensen wouldn’t like to see a lot more of him.

Jeff came to lean beside him.

Jensen raised an amused eyebrow. “I see the  _meeting_  went well.”

Jeff sighed. “Miss Rocha.”

“Pretty girl, from what I could see.”

“Beautiful. “Sam has it in her head that I’m not eating enough.”

“She’s just worried. You’ve had a lot on your mind lately.” Jensen told him. “And you haven’t eaten in a week or two, I can always tell. It’s not like the girl wasn’t willing.”

Jeffrey ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Sometimes I really miss hunting.”

“You could have chased her around the office a couple of times,” Jensen grinned.

“I never expected there’d come a time when they were  _too_  willing. You have to marvel at the fact that, since we ‘came out’ to the public, so many humans have shown themselves to be happy, even eager, to be fed from by a vampire.”

“I think Bram Stoker did the vampire race a great service when he wrote Dracula. We may not have been particularly impressed with the man at the time, but times change.  _Drăculea_  was an ugly, arrogant, bastard, but now he’s perceived as this romantic figure. It’s an image that attracts humans and, as remarkable as True Blood might be, it’s no substitute for the real thing.”

Jeff smirked, wrapping an arm around him and guiding him back inside the office. “There are times when you think  _way_  too much. Now tell me about Jared Padalecki.”

“Nothing much to tell, I barely had a chance to speak to him.”

“Did you like what you saw?”

Enough that he wanted to see a whole lot more, but that wasn’t what Jeff wanted to hear. “He seems okay.” Jensen looked over at the painting that hung behind Jeff’s desk. “How good is he? You went to some trouble tracking him down on the strength of that one painting.”

“He has potential. I’ll know more when I’ve taken a look at the rest of his work.”

Jensen glanced over at the stuffed art portfolios and the bound canvases that the chauffeur had brought up.

“I like ‘ _Ice in Sunlight_ ’,” he admitted. “I think it shows talent but I’m no judge of art, you know that. I wouldn’t hang a Van Gogh on my wall if you paid  _me_.”

Jeff laughed. “You never really took to Vincent, did you?”

“The human was a disaster waiting to happen, and I was proved right,” Jensen insisted. “Though I admit he did make you a pretty penny, eventually.”

“Let’s hope Jared Padalecki does the same.”

Jensen nodded. “ _Hopefully_  without mutilating himself in the process.” 

The older vampire nodded, resuming his seat on the couch. “Time to find out. Ask him in.”

Padalecki was deep in conversation with Sam when Jensen returned to the outer office, looking far more relaxed than he’d seemed earlier. He smiled at something Sam said, the expression revealing deeply cut dimples. Seeing Jared Padalecki smile, Jensen decided, was something worth waiting for.

Jensen coughed to attract their attention. “Mr. Padalecki?” He flashed a smile of his own. “Mr. Morgan will see you now, if you’d like to come in.”

He nodded, turning back to Sam. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Ferris.”

“And you, Jared.”

Jeff wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when Jared Padalecki walked through his door. It certainly wasn’t this giant of a young man with his open, boyish face. He seemed to be doing all he could to minimize his stature--rounding his shoulders, his head down--but he was clearly well over six feet tall. Six-four or five, at a guess, and broad shouldered, an effect emphasized by his tapering waist and slim hips. Jeffrey wondered why he was so self-conscious about his stature. Jeff himself was six-foot-one, a fairly average height now, but back in the day, he’d been considered an unusually large man. He’d been proud of his stature - it seemed strange to him to want to hide something like that.

The young man didn’t even notice him when he walked in with Jensen; his fox-like eyes were fixed on his painting, hung behind the desk, and he looked stunned to see it there.

“Mr. Padalecki.” Jeff got to his feet, his voice diverting the boy’s attention away from the painting. “My apologies for asking you here at such short notice. I’m Jeffrey Dean Morgan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“It’s good to meet you, too. I’ve been looking forward to having this opportunity ever since I bought your painting. I’m just sorry it took so long.” He smiled and looked over at the painting hanging behind his desk.

“It’s a stunning piece of work.”

“Thank you, it looks... different hanging there.”

“Different how?” Jeffrey asked him.

“G-good. Better than I remember.”

“You’ve brought along your portfolios and other examples of your work. I’m eager to take a look at them, if you’ll permit me.”

Jared glanced around the room, eyes lighting on his portfolios and canvases, and Jeff saw the look of relief on his face. “Sure, I erm...”

Jensen spoke up. “Why don’t I give you a hand laying out your work, Mr. Padalecki?”

He gave Jensen a nod. “Please.”

Jeff crossed to the phone on his desk as the two of them began to spread out the artwork around the office.  
“Sam, can you hold my calls while Mr. Padalecki is here?”

“I’ll do that. Do you want me to have some food and coffee brought in, I could hear his stomach rumbling while he was waiting, but he wouldn’t accept anything. The way his heart was pounding, I think he was probably too nervous.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” he admitted. “Have something brought in.” He hung up the phone and perched on the corner of his desk, studying Padalecki a little more closely as he carefully laid out his work. He was a fine looking man, intense when he was focused on his art like this. It was an interesting contrast to the boyish expression when Jared had first come into the room. He looked clean and tidy. Not all the artists he’d offered his patronage to had been particularly clean in their habits. His clothes were clean too, if a little rumpled, but they were badly fitting, old and worn. The tennis shoes he was wearing were cheap, battered things that looked ready to fall apart and, if Jeff wasn’t mistaken they were wet too. As he studied them he realized that the young man was limping. All in all, Jared Padalecki looked in need of some care, and Jeff couldn’t help but wonder why there was no one around to do that for him.

By the time the artwork was laid out, food and coffee had arrived and Jensen, with surprising patience, had turned Padalecki away from his continual rearranging of his work, taking his arm to lead him over to the couch.

“Refreshments, Mr Padalecki. It must be a while since you’ve eaten.” Jensen crouched beside him at the table and poured a cup of coffee. “Sugar?” he asked him.

“Er... Two, and it’s Jared, please.”

“Milk or cream, Jared?”

“Milk, just a little.”

Jensen obliged him and handed over the large coffee cup and saucer. 

“Are you not having any?”

Jeff sighed, moving away from his perch on the edge of the desk to seat himself opposite Jared Padalecki.

“I’m sorry, Jared. I presumed someone had already explained to you.”

Jared didn’t understand. “Explained what?”

“I’m a vampire, Jared. So is Jensen, Sam too.”

Jared gulped. “Vampires?”

It was a rhetorical question but Jeff gave him a patient nod. “I presumed that you knew.”

“No, I...”

“I can assure you you’re in no danger. However, if you’re concerned for your safety, perhaps you could contact a friend, let them know where you are.”

Padalecki looked from one to the other of them. His heart was pounding, Jeff could hear it, but he took in a deep breath “I’m okay, I just never met a vampire before. I guess that explains why this meeting’s at night, huh?”

Jeff nodded, giving him a smile. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.” He returned Jeff’s smile with one of his own.

“I should have told you earlier,” Jensen apologized. “Still, no harm done.” He moved to sit nearby. “I never asked you before, Jared, how long have you been in New York?”

“Almost two years. I’m from Texas, originally. San Antonio.” 

“I thought I recognised the accent. I lived in Texas for a while...”

Jeff tuned out the sound of the two of them talking and got to his feet, moving to look at the artwork that was laid out around his office. He’d tried to keep a detached mental distance as he’d seen the work being put out, not paying too much attention until it was all there, but even so what he’d seen, even in passing...

As soon as he first saw ‘ _Ice in Sunlight_ ’, Jeff knew he had to own it and it had captured his attention for hours on end, still did. The painting enthralled him, the technical expertise was extraordinary and he’d known immediately that the artist had exceptional talent but there was more to it than just skill, something that over the years he’d learned that only great artists were capable of and that was infusing their work with... Well, he liked to think of it as a hint of their soul. You couldn’t always tell with just one painting and sometimes an artist only had the one, true work of art inside them and they gave it everything, burned themselves out, possibly. A rare few, however, had a truly incredible gift and Jeffrey knew, just glancing around the room, that Jared Padalecki was one of them.

The work he saw set out in front of him was astounding - like nothing he’d seen for many, many years. He took his time moving from piece to piece, hand stroking thoughtfully at his beard as he studied these examples of outstanding talent.

One particular canvas, a night view of 42nd Street in monochrome drew his attention. “Jared,” he turned, giving the worried looking young man a smile. “Come and tell me about this one, did you use acrylic?”

“Yeah,” Jared said, getting eagerly to his feet and crossing the room to join him.

They discussed a number of the paintings, Jeff asking him about his techniques and motivation. Jared talked about his work with a passion and enthusiasm Jeff hadn’t come across in a very long time.

They moved to one of the couches, sitting together and going through some of Jared’s sketchbooks, discussing his ideas for future works, his use of materials and experiments with different mediums.

At some point, Jared lost his wariness and seemed to forget that Jeff was a vampire, relaxing to such an extent that he lost all concept of personal space, touching Jeff with an innocence of purpose Jeff had almost forgotten existed.

Jared came to the end of a story he was telling Jeff about his aborted attempts at sculpture, all broad gestures and those huge, dimpled smiles, and Jeff found that he was no longer listening, just staring, taking in every feature.

“I-is something wrong?” The uncertainty and lack of confidence was suddenly back in Jared’s voice. Jeff found himself wondering who had put it there, what had happened to make this young man doubt himself.

“No, not at all,” He gave him a smile that he hoped was reassuring before letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s very late, Jared, and as much as I could happily sit here and talk to you until dawn, you need to go home and get some sleep. However, before you do, we need to talk seriously.”

“I’m sorry. I get carried away sometimes; I don’t see anyone I can really talk to about my work and you…you understand.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. It’s been an evening of pleasurable company. I’ve enjoyed our conversation and looking at your work. There are some pieces amongst what you have here that I would very much like to own, but we can talk about them another time. What I’d really like to do now, Jared, is offer you my patronage.”

“Patronage?” Jared frowned.

“It’s an old fashioned concept, I know, but it’s something I’ve had a lot of success with over the years. What it means is that I’d like to support you and your work; basically I want to make it easier for you to work. I’ll find you a good agent and use my influence to help that agent to get your work seen. I’ll provide you with a studio to work in, materials, anything I can do to help you commit to your art. I’ll even provide you with a living allowance.” Jeff met the young man’s eyes. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds too good to be true, to be honest,” Jared admitted and Jeff found that he was pleased his young artist had doubts. “What’s the catch?” He continued. “What’s in it for you?”

He smiled. “Patronage isn’t entirely altruistic. I get first choice of everything you do but beyond that, I’m gambling on your talent. I believe that one day your work will be in demand, and therefore, whatever I invest in you now, I will recover in the future should I decide to sell any of your work. I’m a vampire, Jared. I can wait.”

The boy’s eyes widened as realization hit. “Until I’m  _dead_?”

“Possibly. You have real talent. I want you to consider allowing me to nurture that talent.”

Jared brushed the fingers of one of those large hands back through his hair, his eyes focused but clearly not seeing. “I-I don’t really know,” he admitted after a moment. “This is a huge thing for me.”

“What I can do is have my lawyers draw up a contract between us and we can get you a lawyer of your own to look over it and ensure it’s in your best interests, iron out any details, would that help?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, I think it would.”

“Good. Forgive me for saying this but, I get the impression that life isn’t too easy for you at the moment.”

Jared sighed. “You could say that.”

“Then let me help.”

The young man’s frown reappeared but he met Jeff’s eyes even as he wrung those large, long fingered hands of his in his lap. “I-I’m not good at painting to order and I can’t just churn things out. I can be slow, I-I change my mind a lot.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“I do need, help,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I’ll even be able to paint for much longer, things are... Kinda bad, I guess. I don’t really know how to do anything else.” He bit at his lower lip. “Okay,” he said softly. “I accept.”

“Don’t decide on the spur of the moment. You need to think about my offer carefully. You might want to discuss this with someone else first, your family perhaps...”

“No,” Jared cut him off quickly. “We don’t really... I haven’t seen my family in a long time. We don’t really talk anymore, not since my grandmother died.” He swallowed and Jeff saw the moisture in his eyes.

“The decision is yours, Jared, but we’ll find you a good lawyer of your own to ensure that we have a contract between us that is fair to both parties. That said,” He gave the boy a broad smile. “Your acceptance of my patronage has made me very happy.”

Jared returned it with one of his own. It was a little uncertain still, but hopefully that would change. “I feel like we should shake hands on it or something.” 

“Vampires don’t shake hands as a rule.”

“What about a toast instead?” Jensen spoke up from his place on the couch nearby.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he agreed. “What do you say, Jared? Some champagne for you and synthetic blood for Jensen and I.”

“I’ve never had champagne,” Jared told him.

“Neither have I,” Jeff smiled. “However I know it’s traditional on these occasions. Jensen, would you..?”

“Champagne and True Blood, I’m right on it,” his sheriff told him, getting up from his seat. “Congratulations, Jared.”

Jared grinned.. “Thank you.”

Jared awoke from a dream, where he was being chased through the streets of New York by Bela Lugosi, to the sound of persistent knocking on his door. He hadn’t got back home until almost dawn and, for a while, he’d been way too buzzed to sleep. He’d had almost an entire bottle of champagne and that, plus the night’s experience, insisted on playing out repeatedly in his head. He stumbled over to answer it, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes and hoping to God it wasn’t Fischer the building super, he still didn’t have the rent.

He was greeted by a man in a dark, three piece suit and a rain speckled black overcoat. He had bright blue eyes and a mop of short, dark hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. 

“Mr. Padalecki?”

He gave the man a nod.

“I’m Misha Collins.” The man said it like it was supposed to mean something to him but before Jared could decide what that was exactly the man was through the door and in his apartment.

“You don’t have a phone.”

“Er, no.” He shook his head. “There’s a payphone downstairs at the end of the hall, what...?”

“A phone of your  _own_ ,” Misha emphasized. “Which is why I’m here unannounced.” He pushed a bag Jared hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying into his arms. “I took the liberty of buying you a cell phone and I’ve pre-programmed my own, Ms. Ferris, Mr. Ackles and Mr. Morgan’s numbers into it for you. You need to charge it.”

So this was someone Mr. Morgan had sent. “You’re not a vampire,” Jared realized.

“No, I’m Mr. Morgan’s human P.A.. You met my vampire counterpart, Samantha Ferris, last night.”

“He has a human  _and_  a vampire P.A.?”

“We job share, due to Ms. Ferris’ extreme allergic reaction to sunlight.”

Jared stared at him, not understanding.

“She bursts into flames.”

“Oh, yeah! Of course, I... I just woke up,” Jared explained. “Sorry.”

“The day is still early Mr. Padalecki, I have hopes for you,” Collins deadpanned. “Now, if you’d like to get dressed, we have a busy day ahead. I’ve arranged an appointment for you at Fairbanks and Holland. I presume Mr. Morgan advised you that you should have your own lawyer?”

“Erm, yeah.” Jared ran his fingers through his long, sleep tousled hair. “He might have said something about it.” 

“Fairbanks and Holland are a highly reputable firm with excellent credentials. I have a draft copy of the contract between yourself and Mr. Morgan in the car, ready for you to look over, and I’ve faxed a copy to Fairbanks and Holland.

“Once we’re finished at the lawyers’ office, we have one or two other things we need to do, Mr. Morgan requested that I take you to look at a selection of properties.”

Now Jared really wasn’t following. He frowned, confused. “Properties?”

“Properties that may be suitable for your use as a studio. However, I think our first priority is to get some coffee and breakfast inside of you, wake you up.”

Jared had never had much of a head for figures. He sat in the car--yet another chauffeured limousine--and stared at the contract in its neat leather binder with very little understanding. Mr. Morgan had explained the basics to him last night, but when it came to seeing it here, all written down, he felt lost. He looked at it diligently as they drove through the rain soaked New York streets, relieved when they eventually pulled in outside a busy looking restaurant.

“ _Locanda Verde_ ,” Collins told him. “Have you ever been here before?”

Jared shook his head. He wasn’t even sure where they were. Breakfast was usually store bought bread in his own toaster. Occasionally Chad would drag him out to the little greasy spoon at the end of the block--not that that was breakfast exactly; Chad never dragged himself out of his bed before twelve.

“In my opinion, they serve the best breakfast in the city. I highly recommend the mixed breakfast pastry platter.”

Collins wasn’t kidding. Jared had expected the place to be up market and stuffy. Maybe it was up market, but the staff were friendly and welcoming, the coffee was rich and plentiful and his pastry platter--consisting of a parmesan scone, a hazelnut sticky bun and a huge slice of mouth watering coffee cake--was among the best breakfasts he could ever remember eating.

Collins admitted that he’d already eaten breakfast, but he still ordered himself coffee and then weakened and ordered some kind of fancy toast. Jared had thought the man was kind of a stuffed shirt at first but over breakfast he was chatty and friendly.

Collins stretched in his chair, checking his watch as Jared chased the last moist crumbs of coffee cake around his plate.

“We should go if we want to beat the traffic, you’re due at Fairbanks and Holland in thirty minutes.”

The Fairbanks and Holland building was another that Jared had noticed and admired many times, without actually being able to put a name to it. Some people didn’t see the beauty in these towering structures but he thought they were works of art in themselves, towering sculptures of metal, glass and stone that gave New York City its identity. This particular building had copper in its columns and Jared loved the way it had weathered, the verdigris patina adding to its beauty. 

Inside the building was equally attractive with a hushed old world charm that made him feel self-conscious of his own less than perfect appearance once more. 

“I don’t understand,” Jared told Misha Collins in an anxious whisper. “How can I afford to hire people like this when I don’t have any money?”

“You can’t, Mr. Morgan has retained the services of the law firm on your behalf. It’s in Mr. Morgan’s interest to ensure that the contract between you and he is an honest one. If it isn’t, then it wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny or be legal. Mr. Morgan’s lawyers are extremely good so it would be foolish if you didn’t have equally impressive representation. Fairbanks and Holland are probably the best lawyers in New York. In fact, they’re one of the most prestigious firms in the U.S.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be here,” Jared whispered as they approached the ornate reception desk. “You’ll be in with me, right?”

Collins stopped in his tracks and Jared almost collided with him. “Jared, you should be here, don’t doubt that for a moment. As for being in with you, I can’t do that, and I can’t give you any advice regarding the meeting you’re about to have, just to be yourself, you’ll be fine” he gave Jared an earnest smile. “I’m an employee of J.D Morgan so my presence or advice could be construed as not being in your best interest. Does that make sense?”

Jared gulped. “Yes, but...”

“These people are here to work for  _you_ , Jared. You have nothing to prove to  _them_.”

“I wish I could have worn a suit or something...” He chewed at his bottom lip.

“You could have worn a dress and they wouldn’t have minded,” Collins told him, his dark brow arched. “Trust me.”

Jared laughed and gave the smaller man a nod. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

“Thataboy,” Collins smiled before leading the way over to the battery of beautiful young women who manned the curving reception desk.

Jared didn’t feel much wiser coming out of his lawyer’s office than he did going in.

“I did my best to understand,” he admitted to Misha once they were back in the car. “I’m just not very good with numbers and...” He hesitated, not wanting to sound like an idiot but knowing he’d just make a fool of himself if he pretended to understand. “I don’t really get it.”

“Well that’s what lawyers are for, lawyers, accountants and the like. We lesser mortals just sign what they tell us to sign and trust that they know what they’re doing”

“He did say it was an excellent contract and he was more than happy for me to sign it with some small amendments.”

“And are you happy to do that?”

Jared chewed at his lips as he thought about it. He couldn’t honestly imagine himself ever really understanding something that complicated.

“I guess I am,” he decided.

“You don’t have to decide right away, Jared. Your lawyers still have to make their amendments then arrange a date for the signing of the contracts with Mr. Morgan’s lawyers. They don’t exactly rush these things.” He smiled. “Come on, let’s go and take a look at those properties now, shall we?”

Jared nodded. “Having a studio to work in would be great.”

“It can’t be very easy trying to paint in your apartment.”

“No, it’s real small. The apartment I used to live in was better but I couldn’t make the rent on that one.” Hell, he couldn’t make the rent on the rat hole of a place he had now. The flush of embarrassment reached his cheeks before he could stop it.

If Misha noticed, he was polite enough not to mention it. “Let’s see if we can find you somewhere more suitable then, shall we?”

They looked at three properties, each of them owned by J.D Morgan. He would have been perfectly happy with the first one they looked at, but Misha insisted they look at all three before he made his decision. By the time they arrived at the third property, Jared’s feet were throbbing once more from the blisters.

They were back in TriBeCa, standing outside a nondescript doorway in a four story building that had clearly once been a factory of some sort. The windows of the first floor were all black glass.

“You’re limping.” Collins frowned, head tilted to one side as he looked at Jared curiously.

“Blisters,” Jared explained. “I spent most of yesterday delivering flyers with wet feet.” If not for the constant reminder from the raw spots on his feet, the events of yesterday felt like they happened a long time ago.

“You should have said,” Misha frowned. “Have you put anything on them?”

“I kind of ran out of stuff, band-aids and such.” He shrugged. 

“We’ll pick some up for you once we’ve looked at this place.”

“It’s fine, I...”

“Jared, it's not a problem. I just wish you’d have said something earlier. I wouldn’t have trailed you around so much..”

Jared hung his head. “I’m sorry, I...”

“Don’t be,” Misha gave Jared’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s take a look at what we have here.” Jared looked up and Collins gave him a smile, brandishing a set of keys and a sheaf of paperwork. 

He let them in and Jared found himself in a small foyer with bare brick walls, tiled floors and stairs, and much to Jared’s delight an old birdcage elevator.

“This is interesting, Jared.” Misha looked through the paperwork. “As I said earlier, I didn’t have time to look over these, before we set off this morning. Mr. Morgan owns the entire building and this is the private entrance to the third and fourth floors. The first and second floors used to be a dance and fitness studio; their entrance is at the other side of the building. The third floor was a ballet school and the owner lived in the fourth floor loft apartment. 

“Mr. Morgan converted the first and second floors into a night club, a private club for vampires. The third floor has been partially renovated, and Mr. Morgan thinks it would make an ideal studio for you. The fourth floor is a furnished loft apartment and it's empty. It has been for some time; apparently leases above vampire clubs aren’t at the top of anyone’s rental list. The nightclub is fully soundproofed, however, and the entrance remains at the other side of the block.

“Both the studio space  _and_  the apartment are yours, if you like them.”

“An apartment?”

Misha nodded. “One with lots of space, Jared. Why don’t we go up and take a look around?”

He nodded, more than a little stunned at the thought of a new apartment.

“You know there are lots of artists living here in TriBeCa and in nearby SoHo, with lofts, many of them much larger than this one.”

“Really?” This was something he’d been dreaming about since first coming to New York City, some kind of artists’ community. People he could share ideas with, fellow art geeks who would know where he was coming from, understand what he was getting at, just as Jeff Morgan had last night.

“They’re an established community and have been for some years,” Misha added. “So, elevator or stairs?”

“Elevator,” Jared beamed.

“I had a feeling you might say that. What’s the fascination?”

“I remember seeing this movie, when I was a kid. I can’t remember anything about it except that it had an elevator just like this one and you had to tap dance to make it work.”

Misha raised a dark brow. “Tell me you’re not going to tap dance.”

“Dancing’s not really my thing, at least not in public,” Jared grinned. “The thought’s there, though.” 

What had once been the ballet school was a huge, high-ceilinged, light and airy room, with windows on two sides, wonderful iron pillars and an oak floor that was polished to a gleam. There was a small open plan kitchen at one end and a separate bathroom at the other. The huge windows had white cloth blinds and the only furniture was a large, comfortably battered, brown leather couch that looked like it belonged in that room.  
Jared knew right away that this was the place where he wanted to paint.

“You like it.” Misha smiled up at him. “I can tell by your face.”

“It…it’s perfect,” he admitted, staring around at the spacious loft.

“You can see yourself working here?”

“God, yes!” Jared grinned and then bit at his lip. “I just can’t believe this, all of this...”

“It’s an amazing space.” Misha squeezed his arm. “Shall we go take a look at the living accommodation?”

They took the stairs this time. The loft apartment was beautiful, with the kitchen and bathroom in the same place as they were downstairs. Between there was a dining area and a lounge with the largest TV Jared had ever seen. There was a separate bedroom with a huge bed, more than large enough to fit his six foot four inch frame, bureaus, and wardrobes he could never hope to fill. There was lots of wood and leather, with exposed brick walls and thick, rugs on the floor--modern but clearly designed to be lived in, not just looked at.

“And no one would consider renting this place?” Jared was stunned.

“Vampires still make a lot of people very nervous, Jared. Having a private club just two floors below would be very disturbing to a large number of people I imagine, especially for the type of people with the funds to lease a loft like this.” Misha looked at his paperwork. “There’s been no interest at all in the six months since it was renovated, that’s why no further renovations took place on the floor below. Do you like it?”

“Like it, of course I like it. I just keep thinking...” He sighed. “Are you sure this is the right place, that Mr. Morgan would really let  _me_  live and work here?”

“Positive, Jared. I think he’d be delighted if you made that decision.”

“It feels like too much, all of this. What if I don’t live up to his expectations, let him down?”

“Would it help if I told you that none of this was planned prior to yesterday? None of this was arranged because of the one painting that hangs in Mr. Morgan’s office, it was done on the strength of the work Mr. Morgan saw from you last night. He invests heavily in art, Jared. It’s a passion of his and from what I understand it has been for centuries. He clearly sees great potential in you and he’s very happy to do all he can to nurture your talent.”

Jared ran nervous fingers through his hair. “I guess that does help, at least a little, thank you.”

“You don’t have to make any decisions right here and now, you can take some time to think about things, perhaps sleep on them. No contracts have been signed, nothing is set in stone. Why don’t I run you home? Though we need to stop off and get you something for those blisters.”

“Okay.”Jared gave the man a smile. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“You have. Everything today... I mean, I know it’s your job, but I really appreciate how patient you’ve been.”

“I’ve enjoyed it, I assure you. I don’t often get the chance to get out of the office and in pleasant company.” Misha smiled. “Come on Jared, let’s get you home.”

Jared arrived back at his apartment building with a disinfectant spray, Neosporin and a box full of band-aids together with a Chinese banquet for one and a six pack, courtesy of Misha Collins, whose pregnant wife had phoned with a craving for a double portion of chicken lo mien. 

“Want to tell me how you can afford to buy take-out and beer when you’re behind on your rent, Padalecki?”

Fischer’s voice startled him out of his contemplation of the day’s events, so much so he almost dropped the six pack he was carrying.

“It was a gift, I didn’t pay for it.”

“You whoring that ass for food now?”

“I’m not a whore.”

“So you keep saying, but we both know you’re a dirty little faggot, don’t we? You have to suck someone for that or did you just bend over?”

Jared looked away from the man, walking past him as quickly as he could without looking like he wanted to run.

“Yeah, you’d  _better_  walk away. I want the rent tomorrow, Padalecki! If I don’t see the money, you’re out of here!”

Jared pounded up the stairs and then fumbled with his arms full of packages in his rush to get out his key and unlock the door. Once inside he dumped everything on the floor, locking the door quickly and shooting the bolts before leaning against it, letting it support his weight while he fought hard to try and get his breathing under control.

The sudden loud hammering on the door had his heart jumping wildly in his chest and drew a shocked, wheezing cry from him.

“G-go away,” he managed.

“Jared, it’s me, man. Let me in.”

Chad. He unlocked the door and drew back the bolts to let his friend inside, chest tightening and aching with the effort it was taking him to breathe.

“Shit, take it easy, dude.” Chad patted down Jared’s pockets and fished out his inhaler. “Come on, take a couple of hits on this stuff. That’s it.” He helped him over to a chair and then crouched down in front of him, eyes sympathetic as Jared tried to relax and pull in some air. “Better?” Chad asked him, after awhile.

He nodded then started to get up.

“Hey, hey, just chill for a while, okay?” Chad pushed him gently back down. “What are you getting up for?”

“The door...”

“I’ll get it.”

Jared watched his friend turn the key in the lock and bolt the door and a flush of shame tracked its way into his cheeks.

“Sorry.”

“We’re good,” Chad told him. “You been having trouble with that asshole downstairs again? Is that what set this off?”

Jared nodded.

“Asthma’s getting worse too, huh?”

“Lately, yeah,” he admitted.

“When did you last go to the clinic?”

“About a month back.” Jared hated the community clinic, but he couldn’t afford to get his medication anywhere else. “Need to go again.”

“What you need is to get out of this shit-hole and away from that creep downstairs. You wanna come and crash at my place for a couple of days? I know it’s kind of a tight squeeze but at least there’s no fucking Fischer. Just for a night or so, the paintings will be okay Jay. I could throw the bolts on your door, shimmy out the window and over to the fire escape.”

“I-I have this offer...” Jared began.

They split the Chinese and the beers between them while Jared told Chad of the events of the last two days.

“Fuck me,” Chad rubbed the last of his lemon chicken off his mouth with the back of his hand before taking a pull on his beer. “Vampires, man, that’s kinda awesome and maybe scary. You see any fangs or shit?”

Jared grinned. “No, nothing like that. I wouldn’t have known they  _were_  vampires if they hadn’t told me.”

“Weren’t they kinda pale?”

“I think Jensen was maybe pale anyway, he has a lot of freckles and Mr. Morgan, I don’t know, maybe he was pale but I can’t say it stood out all that much.” He shrugged.

“So do you want to tell me why it is that, when they offered you a studio and your  _own fucking place_ , you weren’t knocking down this vamp’s door to say yeah? Cuz I don’t get why you wouldn’t be, man.” 

“I just needed to think.”

“About?”

“It just seems too good to be true and...”

“You know, good things do sometimes happen to good people. I don’t get the art stuff, it’s all airy-fairy shit to me, but I know you love it and, man, you’re so fucking good at it.” Chad told him, pointing to the work on his walls.

“You think I should accept?”

“Don’t you?” Chad asked him, his blue eyes intense.

“It’d get me out of here,” he said, looking around at the squalid little room he called home. “And I could really work, the light in the loft is just amazing, Chad.”

“See!”

Jared laughed. “Hey, it’s a big place, maybe you could come live with me, we could...”

“No, we couldn’t and you know it. TriBeCa is a long way from my corner, Jared, and I can’t pay my way out of there, not yet, but that don’t mean that I won’t.”

“But maybe you wouldn’t have to do that, maybe we could...”

“Hey,” Chad reached out and squeezed Jared’s knee. “Let’s not get carried away, one thing at a time man, okay?”

“Yeah, but...”

“Let’s get  _you_  outta here first, huh? It’s not like I’m not gonna be ‘round there annoying the shit outta you when you’re trying to work. And on that subject,” Chad checked his watch. “I gotta go man, y’know? He finished off his beer. “Gimme that fancy new phone of yours so I can put my number in.”

Jared passed the charged phone over to him, watched as Chad put in his number and transferred Jared’s to his.

“You lock up behind me when I’m gone,” Chad told him, getting to his feet and pocketing his phone. “And you phone the damn vampire, say yeah. Oh, and sort your damn feet out, blisters are fucking gross, man.”

After Chad had left and he’d locked up, Jared sat for a long time with the new phone in his hand, thinking things through. Chad was right; he had to take this chance, for himself. His grandmother would have wanted something like this for him; she’d always had faith in him. Maybe it was time he had some in himself.

He flicked through the few numbers on his phone, paused over the one belonging to Jeff Morgan. It was dark out so the vampire should be awake he supposed. He stared at his cell for a minute or two more and then dialled the number.

  
“Harder!”

Jensen was grunting at every thrust of Jeff’s hips. He knew the signs; it meant he was getting close, that Jeff was nailing his prostate with every stroke. He slowed down, withdrawing almost completely, then held still. Jensen tried to push back on his cock.

“Wait!”

“ _Please_ , Jeff.”

He chuckled. “Much better, I like it when you’re polite.”

“I’m so close.”

“I know, we’ll get there.” Jeff took his own, sweet time, with slow, almost there, strokes that had Jensen alternating between cursing him and begging for release. He could remember a time when he barely made any noise, held back any sounds of pleasure he might make. Jeff had taken great delight in curing him of that.

He kept up the slow pace until his own rhythm became something far more desperate, his need taking over He took a firmer grip on Jensen’s hips, thrusting hard and deep until Jensen was shouting out his release, Jeff following closely behind him. He sank back onto his knees, pulling Jensen with him to keep him impaled on his slowly softening cock as he buried his fangs deep into his neck.

Feeding from Jensen wouldn’t sustain him. It wasn’t about that, it was about power, ownership, and the love of a maker for his progeny, not to mention pleasure of course, and not just his own. He withdrew his fangs slowly, licking over the wounds as they began to close and heal.

Jensen sighed, sagging against his chest, eyes closed, smile broad.

“Like that, sweetheart?”

“Always. Might have to sleep for a while now.”

He chuckled, gently withdrawing from Jensen as he lay back, pulling the younger vampire down until he sprawled over Jeff’s chest.

His cell phone rang and Jeff grabbed it from the bedside cabinet, checking the caller I.D. before answering.

“Jared, it’s good to hear from you. What can I do for you?”

“I erm... I went with Mr. Collins to look at some properties today...”

“Misha told me you were having some doubts. Is it something I can help you with?”He heard him take in a deep breath, hoped this wasn’t going to be a refusal of his offer.

“I’ve been thinking about things and I wanted to phone, let you know I wasn’t just messing you around.”

“I know that. I’ve given you a lot to think about, and I know these are big decisions for you. If you felt rushed, then I apologize. Take all the time you need to decide what you want to do. I can wait.” He was a vampire, after all.

“I have thought about it and I’ve made a decision. I’m definitely accepting your offer and I-I’d really like the loft in TriBeCa for a studio and...” He slowed down a little, “And to live there, if the offer still stands.”

“It does - the lofts are the choice I hoped you’d make. I’ll speak to Sam, and have her and Misha get on top of things, get everything signed and legal so that you can move in as soon as possible. If there’s anything I can do in the meantime, anything at all, you just let me know.”

There was a lengthy silence that told Jeff there was something.

“Jared?”

He heard him sigh.

“Tell me what it is?”

“I...” There was silence again and when he finally spoke up Jared’s voice was hesitant. “I can’t make my rent.”

Jeff knew the admission had cost him a lot. “Nothing to worry about, I’ll have Jensen come around later and take care of it.” He ran teasing fingers around the shell of Jensen’s ear. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You already have by accepting my patronage. Don’t worry about it anymore. I’ll speak to you again very soon.”  
“Okay, Mr. Morgan, thank you.”

“That can’t have been easy for him to admit” Jensen frowned.

Jeff nodded, fingers tracing abstract patterns over Jensen’s shoulder. “I was thinking the same thing. When I spoke to Misha earlier, he told me that Jared lives in one tiny room with a dingy bathroom, hard to believe he’s been able to produce art of such quality living somewhere like that.”

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t you?”

Jared unlocked the door when he heard the knock, drawing back the bolts but leaving the security chain on, just in case it wasn’t Jensen Ackles. The only visitor he ever had was Chad who spent his nights working, so the alternative was Fischer and he was taking no chances.

He was relieved to see Jensen standing there.

“Hey.” He smiled, attempting to sound casual. “Sorry about all this,” he waived a hand at the door as he opened it. “Can’t be too careful around here, y’know?” 

Even in jeans, sweater and a leather jacket, Jensen still looked like he’d stepped off the pages of some fancy fashion magazine; and he still looked hot as hell too.

Jared realised he was staring and moved away from the door, nervously swiping his fingers through his hair.   
“You can safely invite me in, Jared. I won’t bite.”

“What?” Jared turned to find Jensen still standing in the open doorway.

“I’m a vampire, remember? I can’t enter your home unless you invite me in.”

Jared knew about vampires, of course; well, he knew what he’d read in books and seen on TV and in the movies. Everyone knew about their ‘coming out’. He thought that was kind of cool, to be honest. He’d been watching Nan Flanagan, the spokesperson for the American Vampire League, just this morning on his little TV as she argued with the Reverend Solomon Didderas, the new leader of The Fellowship of the Sun. He’d never actually seen a real vampire until last night, never expected to actually meet one. They might be out, but that hadn’t made them any more real to him, at least not until yesterday. 

He realized that while he was wool gathering, Jensen was still standing outside his door. “Sorry, Jensen, you can come in. I invite you.” 

“Thank you. It’s good to see you again.” The vampire had an easy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He looked around Jared’s too small room.

“The place isn’t much.” Jared squirmed, a little ashamed.

Jensen however seemed to be focused on the walls, which were covered with his art work. He pointed over Jared’s shoulder to one of the paintings, “That portrait is stunning.” His eyes met Jared’s. “There’s a family resemblance, if I’m not mistaken.”

Jared nodded. “My grandmother. She died last year.”

The vampire gave him the briefest of bows, which seemed an incredibly old-fashioned thing to do. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“She was the one who encouraged me to draw and paint when I was a boy. She helped me to make ends meet when I got my degree at Trinity.”

“I know Trinity,” Jensen told him. “I remember you mentioning you were from San Antonio.”

“Yeah, that’s where I was born. Sometimes I miss the place, but it wouldn’t be the same without Gran.”

“What about your parents?”

He shrugged, trying for casual, but he was pretty sure the lump in his throat betrayed him when he spoke. “They never took to the whole art thing; they thought it was all a waste of time.”

“Clearly they were wrong.” Jensen’s smile was gentle and Jared found he was forced to look away, he couldn’t really talk about his parents - the memories were too raw, even now.

The feel of a hand squeezing his shoulder was a surprise. 

“Sorry,” Jared took a deep breath.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Why don’t we go pay your rent? How much do you owe?”

Jared knelt beside his bed, lifting the corner of the mattress to pull out the envelope of money he had hidden inside the ripped bottom.

“I only managed to find three hundred and seventy,” he explained as he got to his feet. “I’m two hundred and eighty short.”

“You pay six hundred and fifty a month for this place?” 

“I couldn’t find anywhere cheaper, trust me I looked.” He’d looked everywhere for something less expensive but everyone seemed to be looking for references or huge deposits, or doing some kind of credit check thing that Jared really didn’t understand.”

“Do you have any other money, Jared?”

He felt the blush heat up his face. “A little, I need something for food. I should get my deposit back when I move out, that’s a hundred and fifty. I can give you that when I get it.”

“No, Jared, you misunderstand me. I don’t want any money from you. I was just about to suggest that I pay the whole of the rent and you hang on to what you have.”

He shook his head, he couldn’t do that. “No, I have to pay what I can,” he insisted.

Jensen gave him another of those old fashioned little bows of his. “I understand.”

As Jared slipped on his battered tennis shoes and hoodie to go downstairs and pay the rent Jensen couldn’t help but notice how nervous he was. His heart was pounding and for a living human he’d gone remarkably pale. That nervousness seemed to increase significantly as they made their way down the litter strewn stairs. He was fairly certain that Jared wasn’t afraid of him.

The apartment block had looked run down from the outside, inside it was even worse; dingy halls with peeling paint, dirt everywhere. Beneath all of that was an underlying smell of damp and decay. It was a place that should probably have been condemned years ago, but in times of economic recession places like this, he knew from experience, thrived. The landlord certainly shouldn’t be charging people six hundred and fifty dollars a month to live here.

He’d given Jared enough to make up what he owed in rent and stood back to watch. Last night he’d barely flinched when he’d been told he was in a room with two vampires, but watching his body language as he approached the superintendant’s door and knocked hesitantly, it was clear he was afraid. 

The bald, sweaty-faced man who opened it had meaty arms folded over his barrel chest. He wasn’t a tall man, in fact the top of his head barely grazed Jared’s shoulder, but Jared was clearly intimidated by him. 

“You here to pay the fucking rent you owe me, Padalecki?”

“I-I have it.”

“For your sake it better be the whole six fifty.” He counted the cash, slowly. “All here, now ain’t  _that_ a surprise? Looking at the pretty boy over there I think I can guess what you did to earn it.” The man gave Jensen a slow once over, the look disdainful, “You letting pretty boy fuck you for money, Padalecki, or are you stickin’ it to him, huh?”

Jared’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “ _No_ , I...” 

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Jensen butted in, coming to stand beside Jared, his temper slowly rising. “I’m Jensen Ackles.” He gave him a polite smile. “And you are?”

“Name’s Fischer, I’m the super here. Wanna tell me what you’re doing in my building,  _pretty_  boy?”

Jensen hated people calling him that. “ _Your_  building?”

“You heard me; no one gets in and out of here without my permission.”

“And yet here I am, that must mean I have your permission,” Jensen smiled at him.

“You don’t wanna get smart with me, boy, not if you know what’s good for you.”

Jensen took a step closer to Fischer and although the move wasn’t particularly threatening he saw the man’s eyes widen. 

“I was thinking that what might be good for me is a pint or two of A negative.” Fischer paled suddenly. “Probably because I caught the scent of that cut on your finger. It smells just  _delicious_.”

“You’re one of those bastards the Reverend Didderas keeps warning us about; a fucking fanger!” The man roared.

“I prefer the term vampire myself, but ten out of ten for observation, Mr. Fischer.” He stared hard at him and allowed his voice to harden. “Mr. Padalecki is a friend of mine. I like my friends to be treated with respect. If I hear that you’ve done or said anything I might consider disrespectful, then I promise you that I’ll be back to see you and our little chat will be much less pleasant.” He leaned in, until he was directly in Fischer’s face and allowed his fangs to drop into place, the man’s eyes widened in fear. “Do we understand each other?” Jensen asked him.

Fischer nodded quickly.

“Good. Now, I suggest you go back into your apartment and don’t consider leaving it until after dawn tomorrow, just in case I change my mind.”

He stepped away, sheathing his fangs before looking at Jared and giving him a smile.

“Jared, shall we go?” 

“I erm...” He nodded, eyes glancing from the vampire to Fischer and back again. “I guess so.”

The door to the man’s apartment suddenly slammed shut and Jensen could hear the frantic sounds of locks and maybe a bolt, being thrown on the other side.

Jared was staring at the closed door so he gave his elbow a gentle squeeze to attract his attention.

“Are you okay?”

He wasn’t, Jensen realised, as soon as the words were out. Jared was having some trouble breathing, patting at the pockets of his hoodie and his pants until he took out an inhaler. His heart was racing. He watched as Jared took two pulls on the thing, realised he’d probably caused this.

“I’ve distressed you.” 

Jared didn’t deny it. “I-I just...” He swayed a little.

“You don’t look too steady. Why don’t we go back upstairs, you can sit down? You have my word that I won’t come inside unless you want me to.”

He nodded. To Jensen’s relief Jared took a hold on his arm, allowed him to help him back upstairs, even giving him the keys to unlock his door. He didn’t release his arm at the door.

Jensen guided him to sit down in a battered looking armchair.  
“Okay?” 

He crouched in front of him, hand resting lightly on Jared’s knee as the young man fought to even out his breathing. After a while Jared met his eyes and gave him a nod.

“I caused this, didn’t I?” Jensen asked him, concerned. “That wasn’t my intention, Jared, I’m sorry. Please believe me when I say I wasn’t threatening you.” 

“Y-You scared him...”

“The man, Fischer?” He didn’t wait for Jared’s reply. “Yes, I did. I don’t like bullies, I never have. I just gave him a taste of his own medicine.”

Jared chewed at his bottom lip. “Would you have hurt him?”

Jensen was curious. “Would you want me to?”

“ _No_ ,” he admitted. 

He’d expected Jared to fear for his own safety, not for the safety of a man he was clearly afraid of.

“I’d no intention of biting him. I just wanted to scare him, make him think twice before he speaks to you like that again. A flash of fang can be useful sometimes.” 

“You knew his blood type,  _just_  from that cut on his finger?” Jared was curious.

He nodded. “It’s as easy for me as it is for you to smell the difference between meat and fish or chicken and hamburger.”

“Blood smells so diverse?”

“To a vampire, most certainly. Even True Blood comes in different flavours, based on the human blood groups.”

“Really?” His curiosity had taken over from the fear he’d clearly felt earlier. “I didn’t know that. All I know about vampires is what I’ve seen on the news and read in books and that kinda thing. You and Mr Morgan are the first vampires I’ve met.”

“Have I ruined any first impression you had?”

“No, I guess I just don’t do well with confrontation.”

“And you have asthma?”

“Yeah, I had it pretty bad when I was a kid, then it just went away. It came back when I moved here to New York, I guess it must be the climate or something. Chad, my friend, he thinks living here has made it worse.”

Jensen nodded. “I think he could be right. Are you feeling a little better?” His breath still rasped in his chest

“Yeah.” He tapped at his chest with one of those large, elegant looking, hands of his. “Much better.”

“Are we okay?”

He nodded. “We’re good, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, the fault was mine.” He gave Jared’s knee a brief squeeze. “Well I was going to ask you if you if you wanted to come out for a while but I think it might be better if you rested.”

“You could maybe stay for a while,” Jared offered, tentatively, “If you wanted to.”

Jensen grinned. “I’d like that. Do you want me to get you anything, a drink of water or something? I know how to make coffee and tea but other than that my culinary skills don’t really extend much beyond heating True Blood in my microwave. I could probably still snare and cook a rabbit but it’s been a few hundred years since I’ve had to.”

Jared’s laughter made him cough a little but the sight of those deeply cut dimples prevented Jensen from regretting being the cause.

“I’ll pass on the whole snaring thing - the closest thing to wildlife here would probably be a rat anyway. I think I have some coffee left.”

There was only instant coffee and Jensen wasn’t too sure of what he did with that, so he had to ask, which clearly amused Jared. He took a seat on the bed while he drank it and they talked, Jared sating his curiosity about vampires.

“Does Mr. Morgan own Anubis Air?” He asked. “I saw it listed on the directory at J.D Morgan.”

“No, though I believe he owns shares. All of the companies there are vampire owned though, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Jared clearly pondered that. “So the people who work there are..?”

“At least eighty percent human,” Jensen told him. “Vampires don’t have the freedom of hours that you humans do.”

“I never thought of that. It must be kind of restrictive, now that I think about it.”

“It encourages us to make the most of the time we do have,” Jensen explained. “We tend to work and play hard.”

“Do you miss the daylight?”

“Sometimes.” Jensen nodded. “Apart from the odd panic and pain filled moments over the years, I haven’t seen the sun for a very long time and just like humans, we vampires tend to want what we can’t have.”

“You were human once though?” Jared asked him.

“Of course, yes.”

“So, how old...” Jared began.

“A conversation for another time,” Jensen told him with a soft smile. “When we know each other better.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be offensive or anything. I was just curious.”

“I know. I took no offense, Jared, I assure you. Vampire society has its own rules, like any other. Certain etiquettes we all follow. They may seem complicated to a human, they’re certainly difficult for newly made vampires to adapt to, but many of us come from times when manners and customs meant everything, so our society is run that way.”

“I guess that makes sense, you’ll tell me if I say or do something wrong?”

“Of course, though you shouldn’t worry.”

“So,” Jared hesitated, clearly thinking about his question. “Do you work at J.D Morgan?”

“I don’t work as part of the corporation. I’m the sheriff of this area.”

Jared gave a throaty chuckle. “Sheriff?”

“Vampire society doesn’t just have rules about manners we have laws, too. Every part of the world where vampires have settled is divided into areas, each area is ruled by a king and our laws are enforced by a sheriff.”

“Wow. So you work for the king of this area?”

“For Jeff, yes.”

“He’s a  _king_?” Jared’s stunned expression made him smile.

“He was the King of New York City. In vampire terms that’s a large kingdom, kingdoms aren’t measured by area but by the size of the vampire population, which is always directly related to how dense the human population is. New York State, until recently was ruled by a vampire queen, but she’s returned to Europe, so Jeff now rules both city and state.” 

It sounded so simple when he explained it to Jared, but in truth it had been anything but - the transition had been problematic to say the least. Jeff had been king of New York City for thirty years now but the past year had seen him cement his position as senior of all the vampire kings and queens in the USA by taking over New York State when its queen, Giulia Farnese, had decided to return to her roots in Europe. The great vampire reveal had never sat particularly well with her, and she had opposed the idea from the very beginning. Taking over as king of the state as well as the city hadn’t been easy, there had been endless negotiations and lobbying on Jeff’s part. The opposition had been expected and, as Jensen had predicted, it had inevitably turned violent. As sheriff he had retaliated swiftly and brutally.

Jeff was amongst the oldest of all the known vampires but unlike many of the older ones he had adapted well to the changing times, embracing each age as it came. He was highly intelligent, a skilled negotiator and an advocate of peaceful co-existence between the vampire race, humanity and the supernatural world. He was also unflinchingly ruthless when the situation called for him to be. He’d been born in dark and savage times, and that darkness, Jensen knew, was still there beneath the soft words, the $800 haircuts and the Armani suits.

“Do you have similar laws to ours?” Jared’s words dragged him out if his thoughts.

“Vampires are bound by your human laws, it was part of the agreement we made when we revealed ourselves to humanity. A large part of my job is making sure that our people obey your laws and that they obey vampire law as well, but our laws are relatively simple by comparison.”

“Have you been sheriff for a long time?”

“No, just the last ten years, before that I worked for the sheriff of Area 9 in Dallas.” It had been a wise move for him, Godric, that areas sheriff, had been both a friend and mentor to him. “When Jeff’s former sheriff was killed he asked me to take his place and I was happy to be back with him.”

“You were friends before?”

“More than friends, Jeff is my maker.”

“Maker?” Jared frowned and then his eyes widened. “He turned you into a vampire?”

Jensen nodded.

“So he  _killed_  you?”

“He didn’t force me to be a vampire if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jensen assured him with a smile. “It was my choice.”

Jared’s deep frown returned. “Do you mind me asking how it came about?”

“Not at all,” In honesty it was more information than he’d usually share with a human, but then he’d not felt this drawn to a human in a long time. “When we first met I was dying.” 

Jensen remembered the dungeons beneath Jerusalem. He’d been a knight then, a prisoner of Salah Ad-din, wounded in battle and left in a cell to rot by a family who had disowned him and were unwilling to pay ransom. His only company had been Father Guillaume their family priest, forced by his father to leave his own life of ease and plenty and accompany Jensen on his arduous pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Since the very first crusade to the Holy Land the church had assured them that it was a journey of redemption:  _Undertake this journey for the remission of your sins, with the assurance of the imperishable glory of the Kingdom of Heaven_. Jensen had firmly believed that he was a sinner and that god would forgive his sins, but his embittered priest had had other ideas.

Jeff had been in Jerusalem to accept a tribute of slaves from the Sultan, for saving the life of his son. Why he’d taken an interest in a dying knight, Jensen didn’t really know, but he’d found himself a slave to the strange demon lord who had saved his life with a few drops of his own blood.

“Jeff saved me and I...” He hesitated, deciding against telling Jared he’d become his slave. “I served him, came to understand what he was. When he eventually offered to make me a vampire I accepted.”

He watched the younger man mull over what he’d told him, teeth worrying at his lower lip.

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” he said honestly. “I’ve never regretted that decision, it was right for me.” He’d loved Jeff then and he loved him now. They’d had time apart over the centuries and it had been good for both of them, but it had only reinforced the bond between them when they’d inevitably come back together. 

“Am I asking too many questions?” Jared sighed, the sigh turning into a yawn that he did his best to stifle.  
“I do that sometimes, Chad says it can be a pain in the ass.”

“Chad’s your friend?”

“Yeah.”

Jensen suspected that, for some reason, Jared didn’t have too many of those.

“Is he an artist too?”

“No, he... He doesn’t have a regular job right now.” There’s something else there that Jared’s not saying, he can see it in the way the boy suddenly glanced away, in the slight flush and the increase in his heart rate. Whatever it is he doesn’t particularly care, as long as it’s nothing that might harm Jared.

“I should go,” he told him. “It’s getting late, I can see that you’re tired and regrettably I have work to do.”

“I am pretty beat,” Jared admitted. “The late night last night and everything happening today has just caught up with me, I guess. Thanks for everything, tonight.”

Jensen raised his brow. “I brought on your asthma attack and made you lousy coffee, I’m not sure you should be thanking me, Jared. You need to let me make it up to you, take you out to dinner and a movie or something.”

“Wouldn’t a dinner be kinda boring for you?”

“No, you’d be surprised how many restaurants stock True Blood these days, plus I like to people watch.”

“What kind of movies do you like?”

“Not a big fan of romance to be honest but I’ll watch just about anything.”

“I’m thinking not vampire movies.”

“Hey, no,” he grinned. “I  _love_  vampire movies.”

“ _Really_?”

“I tend to laugh a lot and heckle, but yeah, there’s nothing like a good comedy.”

Jared laughed. 

“So, dinner and a movie?” Jensen pushed him a little.

Jared licked at his lips as he considered. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“I’ll call you, might even see if I can talk Jeff into it.” He needed a break. “In the meantime if you have any problems, call me or Jeff, Sam if you have trouble getting hold of us. During the day you can talk to Misha. Do you have everyone’s number?”

Jared nodded. “Mr. Collinsput them in the phone.”

“Good,” He got to his feet and went to the door. “Sleep well, Jared.”

Jared nodded, getting up and stretching his long body as he yawned again. “Thanks. Have a good night and thanks again. You’ll thank Jeff for me?”

“I will.”

Jensen left and heard Jared lock and double bolt the door behind him.

“Everything okay with Jared?” Jeff asked him as he walked into the office.

“It will be once the boy’s out of that apartment.”

“Boy? According to Sam’s research he’s twenty six years old.”

“Young man then, but there’s a lot of the boy in him, you must have noticed. The apartment is a nightmare.” His nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of the dilapidated building. “I lived in better conditions than Jared when I was alive.”

Jeff arched a brow. “You lived in relative luxury when you were alive.”

“Don’t split hairs, you know what I mean. I didn’t need to be a vampire to sniff out the stench of that place the moment I stepped out of the car. Jared spends his life in a moldy little room with a bathroom.”

“Misha’s said pretty much the same thing. I’ll push the lawyers, see if we can expedite the legal side, and get him in the lofts as soon as possible.”

“Good,” he flopped down on a couch. “It’s not doing him any good being there.”

“Did you sort out his rent?”

“He wouldn’t let me pay the full amount, insisted on using the money he’d managed to save towards it. I don’t know how much he has left to pay for food, I didn’t want to push it, but I went in the cupboards to make him coffee and from what I saw there’s pretty much nothing to eat in that apartment and beneath those clothes he’s thinner than you’d think.”

Jeff came out from behind his desk to perch on the coffee table right in front of Jensen.

“Look at me.”

He did as he was told, never could resist that certain tone in Jeff’s voice.

“Now tell me what’s going on with you. I can’t remember the last time I saw you this concerned for a human”

“I don’t know, I just...” He frowned. “He’s a gentle giant, if you ignore the cliché. We went to pay the rent to the building superintendant, a nasty little waste of blood. He said a few things to Jared that I didn’t particularly appreciate, so I put the man in his place.”

“Did you harm him?”

“No, just flashed a little fang.” He’d been tempted to do a lot more than that but Jared’s reaction had stopped him. “Jared was afraid.”

“Did he think you were going to hurt  _him_?”

“That’s what I thought, at first,” Jensen admitted. “I heard his heart rate speed up and I could see how much he was struggling to breathe. He’s asthmatic, by the way; he keeps an inhaler on him. I spoke to him and managed to calm him down. The odd thing was that he wasn’t afraid for himself, he was afraid for the building superintendent, a man who clearly takes every opportunity to intimidate him.”

“Interesting. Is he still afraid of you?”

“No, we talked, we’re friends. I was thinking, it might be a good idea to take him out for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

Jensen grinned at his maker. “And a movie.” 

The next few days rushed by for Jared in a haze of appointments and preparations. He didn’t see Jensen or Jeff again until the end of his meeting at the J.D Morgan offices with Jeff’s lawyers and his own to sign their agreement. The two of them arrived a little after sunset.

Jensen came to stand beside Jared’s chair, resting a hand on his shoulder as Jeff added his own signatures to the agreement and the lawyers witnessed them.

“So, about that dinner?” He whispered, his mouth right beside Jared’s ear. “Italian okay?”

He looked up at Jensen and smiled. “Sure. When?”

“As soon as we’re done here, if you don’t have other plans?”

“No,” Jared fought to keep the size of his grin under control. “I don’t have any plans.”

“Good.” Jensen gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

There was another ten minutes or so or legal talk before Jeff brought things to a halt. “I think we’re done here, gentlemen. We have an agreement everyone is happy with and nothing to prevent things from going ahead on schedule, correct?”

“That’s correct, Mr. Morgan.” One of Jeff’s lawyers answered.

“Excellent,” he smiled over at Jared. “Then if there’s nothing to prevent us from taking our leave of you, we have a dinner engagement. Ready, Jared?”

Jared nodded, smiling back. He was more than ready to leave. As nice as everyone had been to him he was looking forward to getting out of there and stretching his legs. They still said their thanks and goodbyes to the lawyers, Jared shaking hands with his own.

He didn’t get a chance to really speak to Jeff until the three of them were in the elevator headed down to the waiting limousine.

“It’s good to see you again, Jared,” Jeff told him. “Has everything gone well for you today with the signing?”

“It was fine, yeah. Kinda long,” he admitted.

“Lawyers like the sound of their own voices, plus they bill by the hour, never a good combination.” Jeff smiled at him. “Ready for some food? Misha tells me the restaurant we’re going to is excellent.”

“I could eat,” Jared admitted. The biscotti provided with the coffee during the meeting was the first thing he’d eaten today. 

The restaurant Misha had recommended to Jeff wasn’t somewhere he would have chosen, it was small and family run, nothing fancy or expensive. Jeff would have chosen by price and reputation and that would have been wrong for Jared, this small unassuming place was perfect, he clearly felt comfortable and the staff were friendly and welcoming, even to two vampires. Every booth in the place was full, which said something for the quality of the food. They even had quite a good selection of True Blood and it was heated to the perfect temperature.

“Are you looking forward to moving in to the new apartment, Jared?” Jeff asked him.

“Yeah, though, honestly, it still seems a bit unreal, it’s hard to imagine myself actually living there, y’know?”

Jeff nodded. “Whatever you’d like to do to make the place feel more like home, new furniture perhaps, just let me know. I want you to be happy there.”

“It’s perfect as it is,” Jared smothered a cough behind his hand 

“Wait until you move in to decide. The move is at the weekend I understand.” He looked to Jensen for confirmation.

He nodded. “Friday, officially. Do you have everything you need for the move?”

“I don’t really need anything; I don’t have much to move, just my art and some personal stuff. It’s not like I have furniture or that kinda thing.”

Jeff watched Jared push his spaghetti and meatballs around his plate, he’d barely eaten a third of it.

“Is there a problem with the food, Jared?” He asked him.

“The food’s great, I just getting kinda full, big portions you know?”

“You should leave some room for a dessert,” Jeff told him. “Misha says you’ll love them. You have a sweet tooth, he tells me.”

Jared laughed. “Chad says I’m a sugar freak.”

“Chad?”

“He’s a friend, he helped me out when I first came to New York and we’ve been good friends ever since.”

“Does he know about the studio and the apartment?”

Jared nodded. “He helped me to make my mind up. He’s kinda loud and in your face but underneath he’s a good guy, he looks out for me.”

“Do you have any more friends in New York?”

“Not really, people I say hello to.” He shrugged. “I guess I don’t socialise as much as I ought to.”

“You must have done your share when you were back in Texas, at Trinity.” Jensen gave Jared an easy smile. “I hear it’s part of the student lifestyle.”

“Yeah, living on campus there was always something happening.”

“Do you miss it?” Jensen asked him.

“Sometimes. I miss being able to talk about art, bounce ideas around, see what others are doing. Being on my own like this I’m just never certain of the relevance of my work, if it’s as good as it could be.”

“You shouldn’t doubt yourself, Jared, the work you’re doing is more than good,” Jeff rushed to assure him. “I think things will be easier for you once I’ve found you a top class agent, we won’t rush that though, it has to be the right person for you.”

“I don’t think the agent I had before was very good.”

“I agree with you on that.” Any agent that couldn’t see the potential in someone as gifted as Jared was less than useless as far as Jeff was concerned.

“Are you okay for a couple of movies later?” Jensen asked Jared. “There’s a horror double bill that starts at midnight.”

“Yeah,” his face lit up. “What are the movies?”

“Shaun of the Dead and Nosferatu.”

Jeff groaned. “Nosferatu  _again_!”

“Is it the Max Schreck version?”

Jensen nodded. 

“Why do  _you_  like it?” Jared asked him. “It’s not exactly an accurate depiction of a vampire is it, or is that why you like it?”

“It has sentimental value for me. During the Great War, I met a man named Albin Grau. He was an interesting man, fascinated by the occult, especially vampires. I was in Serbia in the winter of 1916 with a friend of mine, Eric. We were looking for a rogue vampire who was making almost every human he fed from into one of us.”

“Why would he do that?”

Jeff shook his head. “Who knows, but it’s against vampire law. Making new vampires can be dangerous, simply because  _they’re_  dangerous; our young can’t always control the blood lust, that’s why they’re bound to their maker so they can be taught our ways. And back then of course we didn’t want anyone to know of our existence, we were content to be a creature of fiction, rumour and folk tales.”

“Grau was curious about everything and he’d heard the rumours that were spreading about vampires, just as we had, and started looking into them. Eric and I befriended him and he told us that he’d met a Serbian farmer whose father was a vampire and he believed he’d be able to talk to him. We found him first, the man had almost decimated his village, we gave him his final death, cleaned up the mess he’d made and we were able to find his maker.

“A few years later I ran into Grau again. He’d read Dracula and was inspired by it to make a movie, his own interpretation of the story based on some of the research he’d done on vampires. The film was mostly nonsense but Grau had mentioned that we could be physically harmed by daylight and, at the time, a film about a vampire seemed far more dangerous than any book might be. I couldn’t get the film stopped and I didn’t want to harm Grau, I liked the man, so I contacted Florence Stoker’s lawyers who were acting for the Bram Stoker estate and they sued for copyright infringement. I’m guessing you know the rest.”

Jared nodded. “All the negatives were ordered destroyed.”

“That’s right, and Grau’s production company were made bankrupt.”

“That was kinda tough on Grau.”

“It could have been worse.” Jensen could just as easily have killed the man.

Jared looked to be pondering on something. “Do human historians get things wrong sometimes? I mean, vampires were there, they’ve seen history being made first hand.” 

There was something quite beautiful about Jared’s intensity. Even without his artistic talent Jeff had no doubt he would have been drawn to him. He didn’t have Jensen’s breathtaking looks, few men did, but the angular face and aquiline features were more than appealing. That spark of desire he’d felt for Jared when they first met was growing.

“There are vampire hands in human history books, here and there,” Jeff assured him. “But you are right - some of us could give more accurate accounts of events.”

It was a pleasant night, not the kind of evening Jeff was used to but he enjoyed it. Jared was entertaining company once he felt at ease, pleasant and funny with a ready laugh. Even their trip to the movies proved entertaining, though Jeff found himself watching Jared far more than he was watching the screen. He wasn’t the only one - Jensen’s eyes rarely left Jared. Jensen was surprisingly transparent for a vampire of his age, or at least he was to Jeff. He’d always been easy to read and his attraction to Jared was more than obvious. The thought of the two of them together stirred a welcome and familiar ache in his cock. It was a thought for the future, but only if Jared was willing.

Once his art had gone Jared didn’t have a whole lot of stuff to pack, but Misha had brought a stack of flat-packed boxes and tape and he and Chad had started to make some of them up and pack what was left of his stuff while Misha went down to see Fischer and settle up what little rent he owed for these last few days. Jared had offered to go with him and had felt guiltily relieved when he said that wouldn’t be necessary. Jared had been there both times Misha had met Fischer before and had been awed by the way he’d dealt with him. The dapper PA just seemed to shrug off the insults and the thinly veiled threats and he was polite to a fault. Jared figured that that must make him pretty good at his job.

The apartment looked worse than ever with all the art gone from the walls. Jared had insisted that that the art be taken to the lofts first, so he was certain it was safe. Tomorrow the rest of his things would go and that would be it, a new place, a new start. This was his last night here, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to miss the place, being here hadn’t exactly been a high point in his life.

They had Jared’s crappy TV on as the two of them worked and chatted, not really watching the thing, but Jared’s ears pricked up when the news anchorman said something about vampires.

“Hey, get the volume,” he told Chad, coughing into his fist. “They mentioned vampires.”  
Chad turned it up.

 _‘...interviewed the Reverend Solomon Didderas.’_   
__

_‘Reverend,’_ They were showing an earlier studio interview by a female reporter Jared recognised but didn’t know the name of. _‘It’s no secret that you’re no friend to the vampire cause, but the statement you made earlier can only be described as inflammatory.’_ __

 _‘It’s not inflammatory,’_  Didderas drawled.  _‘These creatures are murderers, serial killers who drain the blood of their victims. Tell me that you’re not thinking exactly the same thing I am._ __

 _‘We have a city, a state, hell, a damn country, where these serial killers are just allowed to walk around scot free and yes, I’m pointing a finger because someone has to do it.’_

 _‘At this point I’d like to bring in the spokesperson for the American Vampire League, Nan Flanagan.”_

The female vampire appeared on the screen, linked in from another studio.

 _‘Ms Flanagan...’_   
__

_‘Good evening,’_ she told the interviewer coolly. 

The reporter smiled.  _‘Do you think the reverend’s words are inflammatory?’_ __

 _‘Of course they are. They’re sensationalist and outrageous they’re doing untold damage to the vampire’s attempts to settle in and become a valuable addition to society.’_

“She’s kind of hot, don’t you think so?” Chad asked him.”If you swung that way you’d be tempted, right?”

“Shut up,” Jared hushed him, smothering a cough. “I wanna hear this.”

 _‘...this man claims to be a reverend but his church isn’t recognised by our government and he hasn’t been ordained in any legitimate church, this is yet another attempt to spread fear amongst humanity by The Fellowship of the Sun, an extremist, ultra right wing organization who are doing all they can to discredit the vampire race. The reverend has already outstayed his welcome in the south now he’s here spouting his extremist anti-vampire views.’_   
__

_‘So you’re saying that vampires are no longer killers?’_

 _‘The development of True Blood means we no longer have to be, that’s why we came out in public. The vampire community of New York is doing everything in its power to be part of this great city.’_

 _‘Yeah,’_  the reverend interrupted. _‘Let’s talk about that shall we, the fact that these vampires have their own justice system, a sheriff if you can believe it, and in fact they have the nerve to have a damn king!’_ __

 _‘Vampire kings and queens are a traditional part of vampire culture and government.’_  Nan Flanagan came back. _‘Vampire sheriffs play an integral part in that government by ensuring that our laws, and human laws, are upheld by the vampire population.’_ __

 _‘If you’re part of us now, then why do you have your own government, your kings and your sheriffs? Why can’t you abide by the same laws as the rest of us?’_

 _‘That is exactly what we do, Reverend. We police vampire society to ensure that they keep within the boundaries of human law. Our sheriffs work with police forces up and down the country and our kings and queens work with your government and other governments around the world.’_

 _‘That’s easy enough for you to say, but the truth is you people hide behind the development of True Blood. You hide behind this myth that you’re all supposed to be oh so good now, that you don’t drink human blood anymore. Well I call bullshit Ms Flanagan! You people...’_

 _‘We’re not your enemy, Reverend Didderas’_

 _‘We all know that the authorities of this fine city are politically gagged where the vampire problem is concerned.’_

 _‘There is no vampire problem, senator. There are just power hungry men like you and your buddies at The Fellowship of the Sun who hide behind pseudo-religious bullshit to promote conflict...’_

“God, don’t you just love feisty women?” Chad moaned. “I’d let her bite me any damn time she wanted.”

“Idiot!” Jared couldn’t help laughing, but the laughter became caught up in a hacking cough.

“Jesus, Jay!”

He tried to stop laughing, stop coughing, kept trying, but he couldn’t stop the cough and he started to panic.

“Do you need your inhaler, man, will it help?”

“R-run...” He struggled to get the words out.

“You’ve run out?” Chad asked him and he nodded his reply. “I thought you were going to go to the fucking clinic!”

He didn’t want Chad to be pissed with him, wanted to say he was sorry but he couldn’t get any air.

“What’s going on?” Misha was back and quickly came to crouch down beside him.

“He couldn’t stop coughing, and now he can’t get his breath and his fucking inhaler’s run out!” Chad explained.

“Okay,” Misha said quietly. “It’s not a big thing; it used to happen to my little brother all the time, when he was a kid. You just need to calm down, Jared, okay?”

He wasn’t coughing anymore he was just desperate for air but he couldn’t pull any in and he could feel the ache in his chest getting worse, tightening.

“Jared!” Misha’s voice snapped at him and his eyes flew to those of the smaller man. 

“That’s it, look at me. You need to relax and I can help you do that but you have to trust me and do as I ask, do you think you can?”

Jared knew Misha wouldn’t say he could help unless he meant it, so he gave the man a nod and got a smile in return.

“Okay, we’re going to do this together. I want you to take a slow breath in with me. Are you ready?”

Jared nodded fixing his eyes on Misha’s compelling blue ones.

“That’s it, now just breathe in, nice and slow, you’re doing it. Just a little, don’t try and force it. Good. Now we’re going to breathe out, just as slow. That’s it, Jared, that’s very good. Now, in again... Then slowly out. You’re doing fine,” Misha assured him. They kept going and Jared found his breathing slowly getting easier, his chest gradually losing a lot of its tightness.

“That’s much better.” Misha said, eventually. He placed a hand on Jared’s forehead and it felt wonderfully cool and good. “Have you been feeling under the weather?”

Jared nodded. “Couple of days now,” he wheezed.

“You feel warmer than you should but that could be because you were under stress just then. I don’t suppose you have a thermometer?”

He shook his head.

“I think it would be prudent to get you checked out and we need to get another inhaler for you. Do you have a doctor locally, Jared?”

He hung his head a little. “Community clinic.”

“Okay, well why don’t I see if I can arrange for someone to see you right away? Would you mind if I did that?” Misha asked him.

“He worries about the money all the time,” Chad cut in. “Even the community clinic isn’t free.”

“Well all J.D Morgan employees have health care Jared and I’m sure that will extend to you. I’m just going to make a call, okay?”

Jared could feel the blush creeping up his face. “You don’t have to...”

“I don’t think Mr. Morgan would be particularly happy with me if I didn’t, Jared. Now, let me see what I can do.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number, asking for an extension the moment he was connected. “Good afternoon, this is Misha Collins, Jeffrey Morgan’s PA. Yes, that’s right. Would you be able to fit a patient in as soon as possible today? No, I’m fine thank you, it’s an associate of Mr. Morgan’s. His name is Jared Padalecki. Yes, yes,” he checked his watch. “That’s excellent, thank you, we’ll be there as soon as possible.” He hung up.

“This Reverend Didderas fiasco,” Jeffrey challenged Jensen as soon as he walked through the doors into his office. “Do we know why the Fellowship of the Sun is suddenly here in New York?”

“No. They’ve been a pain in the ass in Texas” Jensen told him, coming to sit opposite him at the desk, immaculate as always. 

“Weren’t they connected to Godric’s death?”

“Not directly, from what I heard Godric just wanted to die at the end. Their paramilitary force, The Soldiers of the Sun, were responsible for a major terrorist attack on Area 9, they used a suicide bomber. We lost of a lot of people. We need to be alert if they’re planning toset up shop in New York.” 

“See that Nan promotes the terrorist angle. If I remember rightly, weren’t a number of humans killed as well as our own?”

“That’s right.”

“She can use that.”

“She really went to town on Didderas last night.”

“She did,” Jeff agreed, “But that needs to be tempered. The man wants that kind of public brawl, needs the publicity. Didderas is a lunatic, he’s a poster boy for the ultra right-wing of the Fellowship of the Sun.”

“The Fellowship don’t really wield as much influence here in the north as they do in the southern states, do they?” Jensen asked him.

“Not yet, but it’s growing. The Fellowship appeal to conservative, church going, right wing Americans, the ones who listen to people like Didderas and think that beneath the outrageous bullshit he spouts he just may have a point. Nan might well be able to score intellectual points off the man but we can’t be seen as being the aggressors even in debate.”

“You know, back in the day,” Jensen pointed out, “You’d have drained the human dry with barely a second thought, and then hung up his corpse as a lesson to others.”

Jeff chuckled. “Don’t think I’m not still tempted. Believe me when I say it would be a pleasure, but we made the decision to come out in public and now we have to stick by it. That means adapting to human ways whenever we have to. If we don’t do that, if we can’t incorporate certain human ways into vampire society then the vampires as a race will become extinct and the remainder of the Supe world will eventually follow us.”

“Do you really think that could happen?”

He nodded. “We adapt or we die. The only alternative to that would be for the entire Supe world to unite, there are factions who are openly pushing for that.”

“Do you want that?” Jensen asked him.

It was a question he’d asked himself more times than he cared to remember over the last year. He rubbed at his beard. “If the Supe world unites and exposes itself to man then, in all honesty, I can see no other outcome other than the two sides going to war.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“I’m not sure that would be a war we could win, and if we didn’t...” The phone rang, interrupting them. “Morgan,” he answered, expecting Sam reminding him he had a meeting.

“Jeff, it’s Misha.”

Jeff frowned. “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”

“My wife just phoned and asked me the same question. However I’m at the Wevash Clinic.”

“Are you hurt, ill?”

“No, I’m here with Jared. I brought him here because he doesn’t have a physician of his own and I didn’t think you’d mind me taking the liberty.”

“Of course not. What’s wrong with Jared, is it serious?” He noticed Jensen sit up a little straighter from his sprawl in the chair.

“I don’t think so but it is worrisome. He had some breathing difficulties this afternoon. I’ve noticed he’s had to use his inhaler more and more frequently recently. I put a lot of that use down to stress but I do think he may be unwell. I managed to get him an appointment with Sterling Brown, Jared’s in with him now. I’ll wait here and see what the prognosis is, let you know.”

“You should be home with your wife, Misha.” Jeff knew his PA’s wife Victoria was pregnant.

“Yes, I know. I just thought it prudent for someone to be here with Jared.”

“You’re right,” Jeff agreed, someone should be with the boy. He sighed. “I have a meeting...”

“With Mayor Caldicott, in thirty eight minutes.”

Jeff laughed. “As you say, otherwise I’d come there myself.” He scratched at his beard. There was a certain vulnerability to Jared, despite his size. The boy fascinated him, he hadn’t been this drawn to a human since... “Just a moment, Misha” He gazed over at Jensen, knew how drawn to Jared he was, even if he wasn’t admitting it. “What do you have to do right now?”

“Nothing that can’t wait, why, what’s wrong with Jared?”

“Misha has taken him to the Wevash Clinic, it doesn’t sound serious but he’s with Sterling Brown now. Misha should be home and I’d prefer Jared to have someone there for him he knows.”

Jensen nodded. “I can be there in ten minutes.”

Jeff nodded turning his attention back to Misha. “Jensen is on his way, when he arrives I want you to go home, be with Vikki.”

“Thanks, Jeff, I will. I just didn’t feel able to leave him.”

“I understand and I appreciate it. Jensen is on his way,” he pointed at the door, raising his eyebrows at Jensen who took the hint. “He should be there in around ten minutes.”

“Thank you.”

When he’d finished talking to his human PA, Jeff put a call through to Sam Ferris in the outer office.

“You need to hurry if you want to make it to that meeting with Caldicott on time,” she admonished him.

“I know, I’m on it but I need you to do something for me. I want you to send a gift to Victoria Collins, Misha’s wife.”

“Has she given birth?”

“No she has a few weeks yet, this is something to her from me, something that she’ll appreciate. I want it delivered tonight.”

“So what’s the gift?”

Jeff chuckled. “You’ll think of something that’s perfect, I’m sure. Just remember she’s human.”

“Anything else,  _Oh Majesty_?”

“More work, less sarcasm,” he suggested. “Oh, and put a note with the gift, my apologies for keeping Misha working later than he should be.”

“I think Vikki knows he’s a workaholic.”

“I’m sure she does, but he’s the best human assistant I’ve ever had so letting his wife know that I appreciate her can’t come amiss, can it?”

“Am I the best vampire PA you’ve ever had?”

“You’re the  _only_  vampire PA I’ve ever had.”

“Should I send myself a gift? Maybe a nice, juicy human, a pretty boy with washboard abs, all wrapped up in a nice tuxedo.” She sighed.

“I’ll bear that in mind for your bicentennial.”

“See that you do. I’ll have your driver bring the car around.”

“I’ll be down in five.”

Jensen’s Aston Martin made the journey to the Wevash Clinic inside ten minutes, eating up the rain slick roads as it slid through what was left of the late rush hour traffic. He left the car in the visitors’ car park and made his way up to Dr Brown’s office.

The Wevash was one of the most exclusive medical facilities in the country, though only a small percentage of its patients and not even all its staff, were aware of the extent of its exclusivity. It was a jointly owned enterprise, a rare partnership between the werewolf and vampire communities funded by J.D Morgan and the largest Were pack in New York State. 

The clinic was run by Dr. Sterling Brown, a friend to both communities and an impartial administrator. Brown himself had Fae blood, diluted over generations but even so the man was a powerful empath, a trait which aided his chosen profession. Details of the clinic’s ownership were hidden in a mire of dummy corporations that made it virtually untraceable. It treated all races, human, werewolf, shifter, even vampires and was well used by various Supe owned companies, as well as human, as their health care provider.

Misha was waiting in Sterling Brown’s outer office and stood from his seat beside a blonde, scruffy looking man.

“Jensen, thanks for coming.” Misha greeted him with a smile.

“No problem. Any news on Jared?”

“Not yet I’m afraid. May I introduce you to a friend of Jared’s,” he indicated the scruffy looking man he’d been sat with. “This is Chad... I’m sorry, Chad, I don’t know your last name.”

“Murray. Who’s this guy?”

“This is Jensen Ackles.”

Jensen gave him a nod, studying him carefully. Murray had closely shaved sandy blonde hair and a couple of days’ growth of beard. His clothes were worn, battered looking, the black wife-beater he was wearing fitting tightly to emphasise the cut of rangy muscle beneath. He had cautious, too-old eyes and he was jittery, foot tapping out a rhythm on the floor. His smell, to Jensen’s heightened senses, was chemical sour over laced with stale cigarettes, beer, weed and behind it all was the smell of sex; the kind that reeked of desperation, come and despair.

“Hey, man. Jared’s talked about you, you’re a...” He looked around then, realising where he was.

“A vampire,” Jensen finished for him. “Yes. Do you want to wait with me?” He took in the jittering leg, let Murray see that he’d noticed. “Or do you want Misha to drop you somewhere?”

Murray’s eyes narrowed. “I’m waiting,” he said, determinedly and Jensen decided he might like him, at least a little.

“Misha, you need to go home to Vikki.”

“Yes,” he agreed, with a smile. “Thank you. Will you let me know how Jared is, or ask him to phone me?”

“Of course.”

Jared finished dressing, putting on his shoes before picking up his jacket and walking out of the examination room and into Dr. Brown’s adjoining office. He hadn’t expected the visit to take so long, although on his occasional visits to the community clinic he’d almost always ended up spending half the day there, most of it sitting and waiting to be seen. The time he usually spent with the doctor was usually pretty brief. It wasn’t like that with Dr. Brown - the man wasn’t in any hurry, and he’d given him a thorough check up, after insisting he sit with the nebulizer on for a while until the doctor was happier with his breathing. He’d asked him lots of questions about his health, which Jared figured he’d have to, not having laid eyes on Jared before. Brown was pretty easy to talk to, and he seemed a nice guy, even if he was a little intense.

Brown looked up from his seat behind his desk and gave him a smile. “Have a seat Jared. I just want to go over a few things with you before you go home.”

Jared took a seat opposite, feeling more than a little tired.

“I know you’re tired and I want you to get some rest, so I’m not going to keep you much longer,” the doctor told him. “You have a fairly nasty chest infection that we need to get on top of before it progresses to something far more serious. So I’m going to start you on a course of antibiotics that should get it under control. You said that you don’t have a problem with any particular antibiotic.”

“Not that I know of,” he admitted.

“Well that’s good. Because you’ve told me you have a history of chest problems and I don’t know what you’ve taken before I’ve chosen a less common drug, just in case you’ve built up any immunity. It should deal with it fairly quickly but I’ll want to keep a check on how you’re progressing so we’ll book you another appointment for next week before you leave. I’m going to give you two inhalers this time, an anti –inflammatory and a bronchodilator. Have you ever used a peak flow meter?”

“I... Yeah, when I was a kid I had one of those,” Jared remembered.

“Good, well I’m going to want you to start using one again so we can monitor your lung function and get an accurate picture of what’s going on.

“I’m also fairly concerned about your weight, Jared. You’re a big guy and it’s pretty obvious that you’ve dropped a lot of weight. Are you eating well?”

He flushed, embarrassed. “I-I haven’t been, things have been kind of,” he hesitated. “Money’s been pretty tight.”

“But you’re working for Jeff Morgan now?”

“I guess, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Dr Brown raised a curious brow. “Do you want to tell me what that means, Jared, bearing in mind that I know Mr. Morgan is a vampire.”

“I... He, he’s my patron,” Jared explained.

“Patron?”

“I’m an artist, a painter.”

“ _Oh_ , I’m with you.” The doctor’s smile returned. “So, back to what I was saying. You need to put some weight on, you need regular meals and healthy food. I want to see a slow, steady weight gain over the next few weeks.”

They talked a little more, the doctor giving him his meds, refreshing his memory on how to use the peak flow meter and giving him a weight chart and a booklet on healthy eating, before the doctor escorted him out to see his receptionist and make another appointment. 

Jared was surprised to find Jensen waiting for him with Chad, kind of pleased too.

“Hey,” Jensen greeted him, getting to his feet. “Misha had to leave, I came to take you home.” Those brilliant, green eyes flashed to Dr Brown. “Sterling, good to see you.”

“You too, Jensen. I’m just going to make Jared an appointment for next week and then he can leave. He needs to rest, at least for the next few days, keep hydrated, and eat regular meals.” Dr Brown’s eyes rested pointedly on Jared who nodded meekly.

“We’ll make sure of that,” Jensen assured him.

“Can we drop Chad off?” Jared asked Jensen as they stepped into the elevator that took them down to the parking garage.

“Of course,” Jensen assured him. Jared looked terrible; there was a blue tinge beneath his eyes that stood out starkly against a pallor that could put a vampire to shame. He looked exhausted. “I was thinking that it might be a good idea if you spent the night at your new apartment.”

He saw Jared’s forehead crinkle in a frown. “But I haven’t finished packing everything.”

“The vamp... er, Jensen here, is right,” the other man, Chad, agreed. “You need to get some good sleep, man. Some place warm and decent where you’re not gonna be worrying all the time. There’s not much shit left to pack, I can do that for you tomorrow,” he offered.

Jared rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand and Jensen thought it made him look about five years old. “I-I guess I could.” He looked up at Jensen. “It’ll be okay?”

“It’s  _your_  home, Jared.” Jensen told him, gently. “Do you have your keys on you?”

“Yeah, they’re all together.” He took out a bunch of keys, the frown back as he checked them.

“Here,” the man Chad took the keys from Jared’s unresisting hand. “Let me take the keys to the old place off here, I can use them to finish getting your stuff together, drop them through Fischer’s door once the boxes are collected. You never even need to go back there again.”

Jensen shot out a hand, closing it around the hand in which Chad held the keys, not squeezing, but that hand wasn’t going anywhere with those keys until he released him. 

“Do you trust him to do that, Jared?”

“I’m his fucking  _friend_!” Chad protested, doing his best to twist his hand out of Jensen’s grip.

“I don’t know you,” Jensen told him.

“And I don’t fucking know you, get  _off_  me, asshole!”

  
“Chad’s cool, Jensen.” Jared said quietly, his breathing becoming a little ragged, heart speeding. “I trust him.”

Jensen released the other man at once, concerned that he’d clearly distressed Jared. “I’m sorry,” he told the boy and then turned to Chad. “I meant no offense, I was just...”

“Looking out for him, I can get behind that,” he said, rubbing his wrist. “Just... Go easy on the Terminator crap, okay?”

Jensen laughed at the comparison, raising a brow. “You’re comparing a vampire to Arnie?”

“He could kick your ass, dude.” Chad told him.

“You think?”

The elevator opened onto the parking level with a lurch that staggered an already unsteady Jared and Jensen caught him around his waist, letting him lean until they were out of there.

“Okay?” Jensen asked him.

“Yeah, I’m just kind of tired.”

“Home soon, then you can rest.”

“Home,” he managed a smile. “Sounds good.”

“The car’s just here,” Jensen pointed.

“Fuck me, is that yours? That’s a DB9!” Chad Murray rushed over to the car.

“It might be kinda tight in the back,” Jensen admitted.

“It’s a DB9, dude.” Murray said, as though Jensen didn’t know. He squeezed into the back as soon as Jensen unlocked the doors. Jensen waited for Jared to get in before getting in himself.

Murray was regaling Jared with information about the car. “She’ll do zero to sixty in about four seconds with a maximum speed of a hundred and ninety, front mounted engine, rear wheel drive and that’s a six speed manual gearshift, see? This is a driver’s car, man, it’s fucking mint.”

At least it drew a smile from Jared. “If you say so, man.”

“So where am I dropping you?” Jensen asked Murray.

“Need to be in the West Thirties, I can show you.”

Jared was asleep in the passenger seat when Jensen pulled in where Murray had directed. He slid out of the car and held the door for Murray. 

“You see you take care of the big guy, okay?” He had to admit, Murray had balls.

“That’s why I’m here. What about you? Does Jared know how you pay for your habit?”

“He’s always known. I’ve never hidden it from him.”

Jensen nodded. “The way you live is your business but if it ever causes a problem for Jared then it will be mine, understood.”

“You threatening me, vampire?”

“I’m promising you.”

“Jay’s pretty much the only friend I have and he’s a real nice guy, so that ain't gonna happen.”

“Fair enough.” Jensen dipped his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a business card and holding it out to Murray.

“What’s this for?”

“Just in case you ever need it.” 

Murray stared at him for a while then plucked the card from his fingers, transferring it deftly to the pocket of his jacket.

“Catch you later, man.”

Jared slept the whole way to the loft. It would have been easy enough to carry him upstairs but Jensen wasn’t too sure he’d appreciate it so he gently shook him awake.

“Jared?”

He stirred, eyes slow to focus, the exhaustion so stark on his face that Jensen wondered if carrying him in would perhaps have been the wiser choice.

“Are we here?”

Jensen nodded. “Let’s get you settled in.”

Jared was as malleable as a child, letting Jensen guide him inside, up and inviting him into his loft, helping when his efforts to undress lost coordination and guiding him beneath the sheet and down filled comforter.

He went to the kitchen, fetching a glass of water and the pills Sterling Brown had prescribed. Inevitably, Jared had fallen asleep but Jensen sat beside him on the bed, rousing him gently.

“One last thing, Jared, then I’ll let you sleep, come on.”

“Jensen?”

“Mmh, still here. I need you to take two of these, okay?”

Jared nodded blearily, struggling to sit up a little. He took the pills washing them down with the glass of water Jensen handed him.

“That’s it.” He took the glass back. “Get some sleep now. Try and stay in bed tomorrow if you can, rest, there’s nothing you need to get up for. I’ll arrange for someone to bring whatever food you need and I’ll be back to see you after sunset. If you need anything, your phone is next to the bed.”

Jared nodded again. “Thank you.”

“Lay down,” Jensen coaxed him, “Sleep.”

He drifted back off again in a matter of moments but Jensen didn’t move, content to sit and watch him for a while. He couldn’t remember a human fascinating him this much before. He’d had his share of human lovers across the years. Men were his preference, though there had been a fair number of women who had caught his eye. The draw to Jared though was intense and more than a little disturbing. Jeff was his maker and Jensen knew him like no other, knew that he was as intrigued by Jared as he was, just as he knew that if Jeff commanded it he would have to walk away. 

He moved aside a lock of hair that had fallen across Jared’s face and stroked his fingertips over one of those perfectly sculpted cheekbones. The boy felt so warm, the skin beneath his fingers so incredibly soft. He wanted to run his tongue along the curve of that long neck, taste the salt of his skin; it would be a tantalizing hint of what lay beneath it, the rich blood that would rush in to fill his mouth the moment his fangs sank beneath the yielding flesh.

He moved away reluctantly, the urge to feed on something far more satisfying than True Blood suddenly irresistible.

At least he wouldn’t have to go far to slake that particular thirst. He hadn’t visited the club that lay below what was now Jared’s home, in a while.

The entrance to the club, The Savage Garden, was at the other side of the building. There was little to look at outside; a discreet black door beneath a neat awning, the club’s name lettered in neat, gold script. At either side of the closed door there were bouncers, the standard for any club, but both of these bouncers were vampires.

The club had a strict members, guests and by-invitation-only policy, a policy that Jensen, as sheriff, had set and insisted was rigidly enforced. To be a member you had to be a vampire, humans could be admitted if they were accompanied by a member or if they had an invitation.

Jensen greeted the two vampires with a nod, he knew them both.

“Sheriff.” They gave small but respectful bows back.

“Is Kane inside?”

“Yes, sir.” The taller of the two answered. He opened the door for Jensen. “Enjoy your evening, Sheriff.”

There were a fairly large number of vampire bars and clubs all across the country. The majority of them were open to humans, making their owners’ good money from tourists and the curious who were attracted to the vampire mystique. Too many of them flouted the law when it came to feeding on humans in public places and on issues of consent.

The Savage Garden by contrast was a vampire club for vampires. What went on within its walls wasn’t for human consumption. Jensen made his way through the club to the second floor made up of lavish curtained booths with low couches, silk hung walls and ceilings with ornate copper incense burners and subdued lighting. He stopped at various open booths to acknowledge the occasional greeting. As sheriff he was known, if not by sight then by reputation, to the majority of the vampires who were present.

“Jensen,” Kane, the club’s manager and one of the few vampires he called friend, slipped a familiar arm around his waist. “Been a while since we’ve seen you here,” he grinned. “And you’re avoiding the music downstairs, so, are you here for business or pleasure?”

“A little of both.”

Kane nodded, steering him to the private, roped off booth in a raised corner of the room.   
“Anything special in mind?” Kane asked him. “Or do you want to leave the choice to me?”

“Surprise me,” Jensen told him, “But first we need to talk.”

“Sounds ominous,” Kane told him, sitting down. “Have I done anything?”

Jensen smiled. “I don’t doubt it, but whatever it is I haven’t caught on yet.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Just remember that friendship has limits and if Jeffrey ever catches you doing anything you shouldn’t... He doesn’t do mercy, Kane.” Jensen warned him.

He saw the younger vampire swallow. “I hear you. So, what do we need to talk about?”

“Jared Padalecki.”

“Who?”

“The human living in the lofts above here.”

“Oh yeah, I got word from Sam about that, he’s some kind of artist, right?”

“A painter, and he’s under Jeffrey’s patronage. He just moved in tonight. It needs to be a priority that he’s not disturbed.”

“Yeah, Sam told me, I’ll make sure of it.”

“I also want to borrow Sandy from you?” 

Kane’s expression hardened, eyes narrowing. Jensen knew he had feelings for the human girl, was surprised that he let them be so transparent. As his sheriff Jensen could take the girl, if he were interested, and there would be nothing Kane could do about it.

“Borrow in the broadest sense of the word,” He added, noting that Kane visibly relaxed. “The boy’s sick. He needs someone to look in on him during the day, make sure he’s okay.”

Kane shrugged. “You can ask her, she’s workin’ tonight.”

Jensen nodded. “I’ll do that.”

“You need anything else?”

“No, but I want that quiet word with Sandy before anything else.”

He nodded. “I’ll get her for you.”

Sandra McCoy was a pretty little human, bright, perky, pleasant, in fact pretty much the polar opposite of Kane as far as personality went. Jensen hadn’t had all that much to do with the girl, but he liked what he’d seen, the caring nature she displayed and the sharp intelligence behind her lovely face. She worked here as a waitress, serving drinks to the human guests, her days of serving the vampire guests over since she’d taken up with Kane.

She approached his table fairly uncertainly, probably aware that, no matter what Kane might say, Jensen could feed from her if he wished to. The coined belt that wrapped around her hips jingled as she walked and despite her trepidation there was a smile on her face for him.

“Mr. Ackles; sheriff, Kane said you wanted to see me.”

“I do,” he smiled back. “And it’s Jensen, Sandy, please. Will you join me for a moment?”

“Sure.” She sat beside him in the booth and he took time to admire her soft curves and the warm pulse of her humanity beneath. “What can I do for you, do you want me to..?” She moved to unclasp the heavy coin necklace she was wearing, bare her neck to him, a gesture he appreciated knowing her loyalty to Kane.

Jensen covered her hand with his, stopping her. “No,” he smiled. “No, but thank you.”

She blushed a little as she straightened her clothes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he assured her. “I’m very flattered. What I actually need though is your help with something.”

“Of course,” Her smile resurfaced. “Anything I can do.”

He nodded. “You know about the loft apartments upstairs?”

“I’ve never seen them but yeah, Christian said there was someone coming to live in them.”

“That’s right. His name is Jared and he’s an artist, a painter, employed by the king.”

“Mr. Morgan.”

“That’s right. Jared’s not very well, he has some kind of chest infection and he suffers with asthma, so he’s laid up in bed right now. He needs a lot of rest and he also needs looking after, there’s no food or anything in the apartment, not that he’s in any condition to cook for himself. I wondered if you could help him out with all that, keep an eye on him, make sure he’s taking the medication the doctor gave him, eating.” He met her eyes, gauging her interest and seeing the immediate concern there. “He’s a nice guy, you’ll like him”

“I’d be happy to look in on him, make sure he’s okay,” she assured him.

“If you just let him know that I sent you, I don’t want him thinking you’re some kind of burglar. I’ll see that you’re well paid for it,” he told her. “Plus if the two of you hit it off, and you’re interested, then you might consider carrying on once Jared is better, as a kind of housekeeper. I get the feeling that he can be pretty forgetful when it comes to taking care of himself, but we can talk about that later.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

“If there’s anything you’re not sure about, or if there’s anything wrong then you can get in touch with me, with Mr. Morgan, or Ms. Ferris. Failing that, you need to speak to Mr. Collins. Kane has all those numbers and if he doesn’t then you can get them from Jared’s phone. I left it beside the bed.” Jensen reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing over what cash he had on him. “This should be enough, I think, to get whatever Jared needs for now.”

Sandy took the money, counting it quickly. “There’s way too much here...”

“Keep whatever’s left on hand at the apartment so Jared has it there for whatever he needs. I’ll see that Ms Ferris has you put onto the payroll for this. While Jared’s ill I want looking after him to take priority over your work at the club. If you want me to speak to Kane about that...”

She shook her head. “Christian will be fine with it.”

Jensen raised a doubtful brow. “Really?”

She laughed. “He’s a pussycat.”

Jensen laughed. “Kane a pussycat, that’s one I’ll have to remember.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Jensen?”

“No, I’m good, thank you. I think Kane’s going to surprise me.”

“Okay,” She got to her feet. “Oh, what about a key?”

“Kane has a set for the place.”

“Set of what?” Kane returned to the table, a tall, younger human a couple of steps behind him.

“Sandy will need the keys to the loft apartments.”

He nodded. “Top drawer, left hand side of the desk in my office, they have a label on marked with an L.”

“I’ll get them.”

Jensen gave her another smile. “Thanks Sandy.”

He watched her walk away before turning his attention back to Kane and the man standing beside him, if man was the right word; he looked young, a student maybe. He had to be over twenty one if he was in here, Kane made it a point to check, but although he was around Jensen’s height he could easily be taken for eighteen, nineteen. He had mousey blonde hair that was fashionably dishevelled and a sweetly boyish face, with stunningly innocent wide blue eyes. He wore thick kohl beneath his eyes and his lip was pierced. A larger piercing was in his right ear. He was dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged a nicely muscled chest.

“This is Jake,” Kane told him. “One of our members suggested him for a job here. This is his first night.”

“Would you like to join me, Jake?” Jensen asked him. The youngsters’ clear blue eyes widened a little and he bit down briefly on his lower lip before nodding, clearly nervous and trying to hide it.

He met Jensen’s eyes. “Okay.”

“Have a seat,” Jensen invited. “Would you like a drink, you are old enough to drink?” He flashed a quick look at Kane when he said it.

“I’m twenty two,” he said defensively as he joined Jensen in the booth and Kane gave a nod of affirmation.

“Fair enough,” Jensen told him, gently. “So do you want a drink?”

He nodded, eyes coming up to meet Jensen’s. “To be honest I’m not much of a drinker, could I just have a beer?”

“I’ll bring one over.” Kane told them.

Jensen gazed at the human. His motive in coming to the club tonight was clear enough; frustration, want, desire. Even now he could see every detail of Jared, laid out in his bed just two floors above him. So much beauty, so much innocence, and he wanted to feast on all of it, bury his fangs and his cock inside that sweet flesh. He’d come here to slake his thirst, relieve the frustration that had been building within him since he’d first set eyes on Jared Padalecki.

“Will you let me drink from you tonight?” He asked this Jake. “Think carefully before you answer, consider what I am,” he warned him, “Once you say yes there’s no taking it back.”

“Just  _bite_  me, right?” He said cautiously. “You’re not gonna make me a vampire or y’know, drain me.”

Jensen laughed. “I’ve no plans to kill you or make you a vampire. So what’s it gonna be; do I draw the curtains around us or do you want a cab to take you home?”

The kid rubbed his palms nervously over the knees of his jeans. “I want you to,” he said, voice low.

“Be specific, let me hear you clearly.”

“I want you to draw the curtains and fucking bite me, okay?” he told him, voice loud and clear. 

“Okay.” He pressed the button that closed the curtains around their booth and then turned his attention to Jake.

The boy shook with the effort of holding himself still as Jensen leant slowly across him and laid a hand on his cheek. “Relax,” he urged, slipping the word into the human’s mind with a gentle push and felt the tension ease beneath his touch. “That’s better.” 

He took hold of the bottom of Jake’s t-shirt, pulling it quickly off over his head, before pulling him into his arms and parting Jake’s lips with a swipe of his tongue and instigating a long, lazy kiss. He trailed a hand over the compact muscle of his chest, loving the feel of the heart pounding beneath that vulnerable flesh. 

He made the bite quick and deep, Jake gasping sharply and then holding on to him with all his strength.

“ _Ohfuckohgodjesusfuckme_!”

Jensen would smile but his mouth was otherwise engaged. The kid tasted sweet, exploding on his tongue like Fourth of July fireworks. He didn’t take too much, didn’t need to feed so much these days, not like when he was first made and in the years that flew past so quickly after. 

At any other time he might have taken more interest in Jake, the kid seemed likeable, he was certainly attractive, but not what Jensen wanted, not now. He withdrew his fangs and cleaned up the boy’s neck before pulling away and watching him swoon, like a puppet with cut strings.

“Alright?” he asked him.

“I creamed my pants.”

Jensen laughed, couldn’t help himself. “It happens to the best of us. Did it feel good?”

“ _Dude_ , I creamed my pants,” He repeated. His eyelids fluttered heavily. “How much did you take? I feel kinda lightheaded?”

“About the same as you’d donate, just a little faster. You’ll be fine.” He handed him his t-shirt. “Here, put this on and we’ll get you taken care of.”

Kane must have been watching, waiting, he was there with a large glass of fresh orange for Jake within a minute of Jensen opening the curtains.

“You need to drink this kid, it’ll help,” Kane told him putting the drink down in front of him.

“Thought I was getting a beer?”

“Stop bitching, this is better. Sandy’s getting you a burger. You okay?”

“Kinda wiped,” He admitted.

“You’ll be fine,” he slapped the boy on the shoulder and turned his attention over to Jensen. 

“Everything okay?”

“Just fine.”

Kane gave him a nod.

“Anything else let me know. Drink your juice,” he told the kid. “After you’ve eaten I’ll arrange for someone to take you home.”

“That’s it?” 

“It’s enough on your first night. Usually you’d be expected to carry on waiting tables.”

“I’m okay to keep working,” Jake insisted.

“If you want to keep your job here then you need to learn to do as you’re told and tonight that means someone taking you home and you getting some sleep.”

Jake gave Kane an obedient nod.

“I need to go,” Jensen told his friend. “Have Sandy get in touch if she needs anything.”

“Sure thing.”

Jared let the street door to the lofts lock behind him and headed up to his apartment, the mouth watering smell of cooking drifting down the stairs. 

“Hey,” Sandy smiled at him from the kitchen as he stripped out of his damp jacket, dumping the bags he was carrying on the couch. “How did it go, what did the doc say?”

Today had been his first check-up with Dr Brown. “He was pleased,” Jared told her, coming to sit at the counter opposite her. “He says the infection’s clearing up nicely. I have to finish up the antibiotics and I made another appointment for two weeks time.”

“That’s good. What about the weight?”

Jared frowned. “I didn’t lose any, but I didn’t gain any either.”

“Well that’s to be expected, you weren’t really keeping much down for a couple of days while you were ill,” she sympathised.

“Yeah, he said that was okay but he’s looking for a couple of pounds a week now.”

“We’ll get you fattened up, Jared, don’t you worry,” she assured him, her smile teasing. “I’ve made you chilli for dinner, you’ll just need to warm it through, and there’s pie.”

“It smells really good,” he admitted. “What kind of pie?”

“Apple, I make good apple pie.”

“You make good everything,” Jared told her. Sandy McCoy had been a part of his life for about a week now but Jared felt like he’d known her forever. Jensen had asked her to take care of him while he was ill and she’d been amazing.

“I like to cook, and it’s not like I can cook for Christian.” Christian was her vampire boyfriend who ran the club downstairs for Jeff. Sandy talked about him a lot and had told him a little bit about the vampire club, where she also worked a couple of nights a week.

“So, did you have a good lunch with Mr. Collins? Looks like you spent the money Mr. Ackles left, he’ll be pleased.”

“Do you think? It felt kind of weird spending it.” Sandy had explained how Jensen had emptied his wallet of cash for Jared to use that first night he was ill and even Misha had urged him to spend the money, but it had taken a phone call from Jensen last night to finally convince him. “We got lunch at this really nice deli on 33rd, and then we went shopping. I got some warm stuff, for the winter. Misha says I need to wrap up more.”

“Well he’s right, you don’t want to catch a chill and get ill again. You gonna show me what you bought, maybe model them for me, give me a fashion show?”

He laughed, blushing a little. “I don’t know about that but I’ll show you.”

Jared had been shocked at the prices of things in the stores Misha had taken him to, but he wouldn’t let him go anywhere cheaper. The things he’d bought were really nice though; new boots and a pair of Converse, jeans and some nice trousers, a winter coat, shirts and t-shirts, underwear and socks, pajama pants and his favorite thing, a large, sloppy, soft, black sweater that was big enough even on his long frame.

Sandy smiled, stroking a hand over the sweater. “It’s nice, Jared, all of it. Why don’t you go put all this stuff away while I finish up in the kitchen, then you can take your meds and maybe we could watch a DVD together before I leave? I brought a stack of them that I thought you might like from home.”

“Okay.”

Jared slipped on his new pajama pants and the sweater and the two of them curled up on the couch and watched the latest Terminator movie before Sandy had to leave. Afterwards Jared slept took a nap on the couch. He felt pretty wiped and today had been the most exercise he’d had in a while. 

When he woke up he wandered downstairs to the studio. He wasn’t supposed to do any work, he was still under strict orders to rest, but having the studio down here and not using it was like having a giant itch that he couldn’t scratch.

The light was just amazing, even on a rainy day like this one. He wondered what it had looked like when this floor was a ballet school, wondered if moms brought their pretty little girls here in frilly tutus or if this had been a place for older, more accomplished dancers. He pulled out a large sheet of paper and the box of solid graphite pencils and started to draw.

The buzzer from the door downstairs pulled Jared’s concentration away from what he was doing and he went to the intercom on the wall, picking up the phone there. 

“Hello?”

“Jared, its Jeff Morgan.”

“Oh hi,” Jared smiled to himself, pleased that Jeff had come to see him. “Don’t you have a key?”

“I do, but I’m a vampire and this is your home, even though it’s my building. I can’t come in without your permission.”

“Oh, right. Well er, I invite you in. I’m in the studio.”

“Thank you, Jared.”

He hadn’t realized the sun had set. The light had started to fail a while ago when the rain outside had gotten heavier and he’d put the lights on. He opened the studio door and heard footsteps on the stairs, realized he hadn’t turned the lights on out there, but there were night lights and Jeff was a vampire so he was pretty sure he wouldn’t trip and fall.

He was used to seeing the man in a suit and tie or smart, casual clothes, like he wore on the night they’d been to the movies, so it came as a surprise to see him walk in wearing black motorcycle leathers, a helmet in his hand.

“You ride a motorcycle?” It sounded incredibly stupid the moment it left his mouth and Jared wished he could take it back or that the ground would open up and swallow him. “Well obviously you do, ‘cause you’re in the leathers and everything.” He sighed, combing his fingers back through his hair.

Jeff chuckled, that rich, warm sound that Jared liked. “I’m a speed junkie, what can I say? And maybe there’s a part of me that secretly misses the horse.”

“The horse?” Jared grinned, biting at his lips. “Really?”

“No, just kidding around, damn things were a pain in the ass. The internal combustion engine has to be the best invention,  _ever_.”

Jared laughed.

“So, I thought I’d come by and see how you were doing.” He nodded towards the easel. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing really. I just got to thinking about this place once being a ballet school or whatever and I’ve been sketching for an hour or so.”

“Can I take a look?” Jeff asked him, putting down his helmet and peeling off his leather gloves.

“Yeah, sure.” Jared stood chewing at his nails as the vampire studied the drawing.

“An hour, Jared?” Jeff looked away from his scrutiny of the sketch to raise an eyebrow at him. “You sure about that?”

Jared looked at the drawing, surprising himself when he realized just how far it had progressed. “Is it long after sunset?”

“It’s ten o’clock.” He moved away from the picture, dark eyes focused so intently on Jared that it made him squirm a little. “Have you had dinner?”

“No, I-I didn’t realize the time. Sandy left something for me to heat up.”

“You need to eat and, as stunning as this sketch is, it can wait until tomorrow. Why don’t we go upstairs?”

Jared nodded. 

“Have you heard of a photographer named Alfred Eisenstaedt?” Jeff asked him, hand coming up to ruffle at Jared’s hair as he ushered him up the stairs. It was an unexpected thing for him to do but Jared liked it.

“The name rings a bell.” Maybe from art school, he wasn’t sure.

“His most famous photograph is the one of a sailor kissing a girl in Times Square on V-J Day, but the man took some wonderful photographs, including some stunning shots of ballerinas at the American School of Ballet, and the Corps de Ballet in Paris. Your sketch reminds me of his work.”

“I think I know the one you mean with the sailor,” Jared told him. He turned the lights on in the dark apartment.

“Why don’t you go and wash the pencil smudges off?” Jeff smiled as he pointed them out. “What did Sandy leave for you to eat?”

“Chili.”

“I’d heat it up for you but I’d probably burn it or something. We vampires don’t do a whole lot of cooking, unless you count heating up True Blood in the microwave. ” He laughed, slipping off his leather jacket.

“I don’t suppose you do.” The thought had never really occurred to him, now he found himself wondering if they had kitchens at all or even bedrooms.

“I have other talents,” Jeff grinned, eyes sparkling with humour.

Jared was hungry and the chilli was good enough to make him clean the bowl with a bread roll. He cut himself a slice of pie too, bringing it, a glass of milk and the meds he should have taken hours ago, over to where Jeff was flipping through his TV channels, the sound muted.   
He turned it off when Jared sat down. 

“So, how’s it going?” Jeff asked him. “Misha tells me you were back at the doctor’s office today. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, thanks. Dr Brown says the infection is clearing up pretty well with the meds he gave me.” He took the pills he’d put down on the coffee table, washing them down with some of the milk. “My sleeping is getting better and I haven’t lost any more weight.”

“You need to put some on.”

Jared wasn’t sure if that was a statement or a question but it made him flush a little.

“It looks as though Sandy’s helping with that.”

“She’s been really nice. She’s a great cook; I don’t think I’ve eaten food this good since my gran passed on.”

“You were close, you and your grandmother?”

“She was always good to me. I was never really good at stuff, just art, you know?” Jeff nodded and Jared continued. “My mom and dad, dad especially, used to... I guess he was worried that I’d never make anything of myself. He used to get angry because he thought that drawing and painting was a big waste of time. He wanted me to make something of myself and I just kept disappointing him and mom. I guess the last straw was when he caught me kissing another boy. He threw me out and grandma took me in.”

“Did she encourage your art?”

Jared nodded. “She always had, always. She used up a lot of her savings helping to put me through art school. M-my dad, after she died, he said I used her.” Jared shook his head. “I didn’t, would never...”

“It’s clear that you loved her,” Jeff told him, his hand coming up to squeeze Jared’s shoulder. “And it’s equally clear that your grandmother loved you and that she recognised the talent in you.”

Jared hung his head, not knowing what to say.

“I never really knew my parents well,” Jeff told him. “Back when I was human we were taken from our parents to be trained as soldiers at seven years and at twelve we became erômenos to our chosen erastês.”

“What does that mean?” Jared asked him.

“Erômenos means beloved, we were beloved to the mentor we chose to train us. At eighteen, if we survived, we became reserves in our army and at twenty we reached hēbōntes and became fully fledged soldiers; living in the barracks, part of the mess. We didn’t marry until we reached thirty and then we would choose a strong woman to bear healthy sons for our army.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that before,” Jared told him. “Who would do that to their children?”

Jeff sighed. “It was a very long time ago, another life, and we were proud of how we lived.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, I’m sorry if I...”

“It’s fine, Jared, you didn’t. Like I said, it was a long time ago.” Jeff smiled. “Before I forget I have something for you.” He got up, walking over to where he’d left his leather jacket and searched through an inside pocket. “Do you remember the bank paperwork you signed when we set up the contract between us?”

“I signed all kinds of things, my lawyers went through it all with me but to be honest, there was so much of it and I didn’t take in everything they told me.” He knew he should have paid more attention.

“Well one of the things you signed set up an account for you. The damn thing took forever to come through. I’ve left all the paperwork for Misha to bring ‘round for you tomorrow, he can go through anything you’re not sure of, but I wanted you to have this,” he said, walking over and handing Jared a card before sitting down. “This is your bankcard, you just have to sign the back and it’s ready to use. What’ll happen is that you’ll receive an allowance every month and you can use that to pay for food, clothing, whatever you need. It’s not a huge sum, but you should be comfortable with it.”

“But I don’t...”

“What I want is for you to be able to create; to draw, to paint. As your patron I’m doing everything in my power to enable you to do that. I’m employing you to make art, if you like.”

“You’ve done such a lot already.” Jared looked at the card then looked up at Jeff. “Thank you, for all of this.”

“I should go,” the vampire told him. Leaning down he moved the hair back from where it flopped over Jared’s face, the cool touch lingering as the dark eyes seemed to search his. “You need your sleep.” He told him, moving away a little. “Maybe next time I sneak out of the office and come over on the bike I’ll bring another helmet.”

“Really? I’ve never been on a bike.”

“They’re addictive, but then so many things are these days. I’ll see myself out. You get some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Jared nodded.

 

The next few weeks seemed to fly by for Jared. He tried hard to do everything that Dr Brown told him to do. His chest infection cleared up and he was slowly putting on the weight he’d lost. He started exercising, using some of the money from his allowance to buy a good set of weights which he set up in his studio. 

He started running again too, when he was back in college he’d run every day and enjoyed it. When he’d mentioned it to Jeff one evening it had been clear the vampire was less than happy about it, worried that he might run in the wet and cold and set his health back. The next day a top of the range running machine had been delivered an installed in the studio, courtesy of Jeff, so they’d agreed on a compromise, Jared would run outdoors when the weather was okay and on the machine when it wasn’t.

Chad had told him he was a lucky bastard and suggested he ask Jeff for a car like Jensen’s.

Chad came around a lot, just like always, usually in the afternoons. He’d laze on the couch in the studio, reading his paper or just watching Jared work. At other times Jared would barely see his friend, Chad would spend most of the time upstairs with Sandy. He’d never seen Chad so interested in a girl before. Jared had told him that she had a vampire boyfriend, even Sandy had told him but it didn’t deter him. 

Sandy still took care of his apartment for him, keeping the place clean and neat. She continued cooking for him too but not all the time. She’d been teaching Jared how to cook too, a lot of it he remembered; his gran had been a good cook and he’d often watched her, helping out whenever she’d let him. He’d started to go food shopping with Sandy and had finally gotten to know the area where he lived and quite a few of the people who lived and worked nearby. 

Sandy insisted he was getting pretty good at the whole cooking thing and had convinced him to invite friends around for a meal. He’d hoped Chad might come but wasn’t surprised when he pretty much begged off. Misha had said yes and so had his wife, Vicki. Jared just adored Vicki. He’d met her for the first time when he’d been invited to the Collins home for dinner. The two of them got on so well together that he felt as though he’d known her forever. Jared had always thought that pregnant women looked particularly beautiful and that was certainly true in her case. Sandy had said yes too and, because Jared had asked Jeff and Jensen, she’d promised to drag her vampire boyfriend Christian along too. 

Sandy was the first to arrive.

“Chris will be up in a minute,” she told him. “He’s just checking up on what’s going on at the club, he’s kind of anal about the place.”

“You look really nice,” Jared told her as he took her coat. He’d never seen her in anything other than jeans before and the peach dress she was wearing looked great.

“It’s a Cathy Stone original, Christian bought it for me a while ago but I’ve never really had anywhere to wear it until tonight. How’s everything going?”

He dragged a nervous hand through his hair. “Okay, I think. I’m just hoping everyone arrives on time.”

“They will, don’t worry.” She smiled. “It’s gonna be great. I’ve never been invited to anyone’s home for dinner before, except family things when I was a kid.”

“I bought plenty of True Blood for Christian, Jensen and Jeff and there’s wine for us. Hey, do you want a glass while we’re waiting?”

“That would be great. Do you want me to help with anything?”

“No, I think I’ve got it, fingers crossed.” He hoped everything would be okay. “And you’re my guest tonight and you look beautiful, you shouldn’t be helping.” He took the wine from the fridge and opened it, pouring them both a glass.

Sandy took a drink. “Oh wow, that’s really nice.”

Jared tasted his own, and it was good. He didn’t have a clue about wines so he’d asked the wine merchant one block over for his advice. “Mr Ziegler helped me choose the wines; I just told him what I was making and how much I wanted to spend.”

“If it’s all as good as this I could end up kinda tipsy, I’ll have to remember to sip and be lady like,” Sandy laughed. “Did you manage to talk Chad ‘round?”

Jared frowned. “I tried. He came by earlier when I was cooking and he said he would if he could, but... I think he was just saying it to make me shut up.”

“You know, he’ll probably try. He loves you, y’know.”

Jared laughed. “I wouldn’t call it love exactly. I hope he does come. I’m not sure I’d even be here if not for Chad and I don’t feel like I’ll ever be able to really thank him or pay him back.”

“Maybe just knowing that you’re his friend is enough for him,” Sandy suggested. “He’s a really nice guy, he’s just messed up. He needs to get himself out of the life before it’s too late”

“He’s never really told me any details, he won’t, but I know that the guy he’s into for money is pretty bad news. He’s hooking to pay off his drug debts but he can’t get off the damn stuff, though he swears he’s not doing as much as he used to.” The whole thing with Chad left him exasperated. “I wish I knew a way to help.”

“Aw, honey, don’t do that to yourself. The only person who can really help Chad is Chad.”

“I thought about asking Jeff if there was something he could do but that would be taking advantage, I already have all this to thank him for.” Jared sighed. “And I know you’re right, Chad needs to help himself, but...”

“Hey,” Sandy moved to his side of the kitchen counter and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Come on, don’t spoil your night with this okay?” She reached up and stroked a soft hand over his cheek. “Jared?”

He nodded, hugging her back he leaned down and placed a kiss on top of her head. “Thanks Sandy.”

“Any time, sweetie, anytime.”

“Alanis Morissette is  _god_!” Chris Kane put down his glass of True Blood. “I thought you said this was a good movie.”

“It is,” Jared insisted. “She kills Bartleby with the power of her voice.”

“The whole thing sounds like a crock of sh...” Chris glanced around the table. “It sounds crazy to me,” he amended.

“It’s a brilliant movie, Chris,” Misha added, topping up everyone’s wine glasses and pouring another glass of fresh orange for Vicki, his wife. “You need to watch it.”

Jeff sat back and watched the interaction around the table. Things had gone really well for Jared tonight. His human friends had enjoyed the food he’d made for them and the conversation had been relaxed, increasingly so as the wine flowed. He hadn’t seen Jared smile this much before and it was good to see. 

Since they’d finished eating Jared had been scribbling away on a little pad with a ballpoint pen, and Jeff’s curiosity was beginning to get the better of him.

“You could just ask,” Jensen whispered beside his ear.

“Ask?”

“To see what Jared’s doodling on that notepad. You think I don’t know that it’s driving you crazy?”

“Am I that predictable,” Jeff asked him.

Jensen smiled, his hand squeezing Jeff’s thigh beneath the table. “Only to me old man, only to me.” He looked over to Jared. “Hey, Jared, what are you doodling over there?”

“Just little sketches.”

“Can we take a look?” Jeff asked him.

“Sure,” he pushed the pad over to Jeff.

Each page had a sketch on it, a portrait of each of Jared’s guests. Jeff’s favourite was the one he’d done of Vicki Collins, he’d caught her perfectly.

“These are fantastic, Jared,” Misha told him as he took his turn in looking at the sketches. “What are you going to do with them?”

He shrugged. “I hadn’t really planned on doing anything with them, but you’re welcome to take them if you want them.”

Sandy clapped her hands. “Oh wow, I want mine. These are so good, Jared. How can you draw like this so quickly?”

“Sandy’s right.” Vicky agreed. “These are brilliant, Misha and I are going to take ours home and have them framed. Thank you so much.”

Jared bit his lip, heat flushing his cheeks with color. “I’m so glad you like them.”

The intercom buzzing interrupted them.

“Let me just get that.”

Jeff watched Jared as the conversation continued around the table. Vampire hearing meant he could pick up Jared’s side of the conversation from across the room.

“Hey, man, you came! Yeah of course I want you here, why wouldn’t I? Let me buzz you in.”

“Chad’s here,” Jared announced with a grin. “He’s on his way up.”

“Jaybird, hey man. ‘Mm I too late to the party?”

“No,” Jeff watched as Jared pulled the smaller man in for a hug. “It’s great to see you, I saved some food...”

“No, I’m good man, had a burger or something earlier. I could go for a drink though, you got a beer?”

“No beer, sorry,” Jared apologised. “All I’ve got is...”

“Wine,” He pointed at the open bottle on the table. “Wine’s good.” He set off in the direction of the table less than steadily. Jeff couldn’t smell alcohol on him, he wasn’t drunk. He smelled of tobacco and sex and over the top of all that was the smell of crystal meth. Chad was stoned out of his head.

He dropped down into Jared’s seat at the table and grinned at everyone while messily pouring himself a glass of wine.

“Hey,  _sexy_!” He winked at Sandy. “ _Luurve_  the dress, you wear that for me?”

“Chad, we didn’t think you were coming. This is Chris, my boyfriend.”

Jeff knew that Chris could smell Murray too, and it was clear from his expression that he wasn’t impressed. Jeff was pretty sure that if he hadn’t been there things would probably be turning ugly by now.

“The big bad vamp, huh? Only, he’s kinda short.” Chad laughed. “Now Arnie here,” he pointed at Jensen. “He’s tall and he has this kiss ass DB9, right man?”

Jensen gave him a nod. “You okay?”

“Me, I’m great, why wouldn’t I be? Misha, this your old lady, man? She’s gorgeous, ready to pop, huh? Daddy Misha, you’ll be good at that shit, don’t you think so Jay?” He turned to search out Jared who was stood a couple of paces behind him, every shred of his earlier happiness gone from his face.

“You’re high,” he said, voice quiet.

“Been banging, man, just a little to get me through, y’know.”

“Just a little! I don’t  _believe_  you. How could you..?” Clearly frustrated, Jared ran both hands back through his hair.

“Hey, hey, don’t be angry with me, don’t,” Chad got out of the chair, going over to Jared and putting his arms around him. “Sorry, Jay, I’m sorry, man, I just... It’s been a real bad night and I wanted to come so much. Didn’t mean to fuck it up, I didn’t...”

Jared wrapped his long arms around the smaller man’s frame.”I know, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I’m just a fuck up. I’m gonna go, should be gone.”

“You’ve only just got here, Chad. Don’t go back out, stay here, stay the night. It’ll be okay.”

“No, I’m gonna go, sorry Jay,” he ran a hand over his cheek. “Real sorry.”

“If you’d like,” Jensen spoke up. “I could run Chad home, it’s no problem.”

“You in that fancy car, Arnie?”

“Yeah, you need a ride?”

“Not gonna bite me are ya?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“You sure you don’t want to stay, Chad?”

“Naw, man. I need to go.” He glanced around the room. “I’ll see you guys later, huh?”

“Be safe, Chad,” Sandy gave him a smile.

“Home is the best place,” Misha added. “See you soon, Chad.”

He didn’t answer but he let Jensen lead him out, hand on his shoulder. Jeff knew enough about meth addiction to know that Chad’s personality could easily change from pliant to aggressive and that he would be better off with Jensen than anyone else. His concern now was for Jared, who stood in the middle of the room looking totally lost.

“I’m really sorry,” his voice was quiet when he eventually spoke. “He’s not usually like this, this is bad. He tries so hard most of the time.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Jeff told him.

“No harm done,” Misha agreed. “Jensen will see Chad gets home safely, he’ll be okay.”

“Are you okay?” Sandy asked him.

He swallowed, shaking his head. “Not so much.”

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Chris suggested.

“Is that what you want, Jared?” Vicki Collins asked him quietly. “Because I for one have been having a really good time and I think your friend, Chad, is going to be really upset, when he’s feeling better, if he thinks he broke up your dinner party.”

“I think Vicki’s right,” Jeff gave her a grateful smile. “Come and sit down, Jared. Have a glass of wine.”

“I’ll go get us another bottle,” Sandy told them. “Chris, Jeff, can I heat you up some more True Blood?”

Jeff nodded. “I’d like that.”

“I’m okay, Sandy, thanks.” Christian smiled at her. “It would be good to stay a while longer, if that’s okay with you Jared?”

“Sure.”

Jared came to sit back at the table and Sandy brought more wine which Jeff encouraged him to drink. He didn’t really start to relax though until Jensen came back.

“Is everything okay?”

Jensen nodded. “He wouldn’t let me take him home - he made me drop him on the same corner as last time. I tried to put him in thrall so I could convince him to go and sleep it off but he’s too out of it, it wouldn’t work.” He squeezed Jared’s shoulder. “I don’t know if he’s even going to remember this in the morning to be honest.”

“You’re right, he probably won’t remember, I’ve seen him high like this a couple of times before, he tends to vanish for a couple of days afterwards.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, Jared.”

“You did what you could. I think, if no one minds, I’m gonna call it a night.”

Jeff and Jensen waited until last to leave.

“Are you going to be okay?” Jeff asked him, sitting beside Jared on the couch where he was sat nursing a glass of wine, the bottle in front of him on the coffee table.

“I don’t know. There’s a part of me that’s so angry with him that I just wanna punch him in the face and there’s the other part that’s worried stupid about him, the fucking idiot!”

“How long has he been an addict?”

“As long as I’ve known him. It used to be coke, the meth is fairly new; he’s been using it, I don’t know, less than six months. It’s bad though isn’t it, that stuff?”

“So I understand.”

“Do vampires ever take drugs, become addicts?”

“I know a lot of vampires who’ve tried things, I’ve smoked opium a few times, but the effects aren’t as drastic and we don’t get addicted the way that humans do. I don’t know why.”

“I’ve tried opium too,” Jensen told him, “and cocaine. The cocaine didn’t really have any effect at all. I think it’s something to do with vampire blood. Our blood has drug like qualities when humans drink it, it can be addictive in large quantities.”

“If there’s anything we can do to help, then we will,” Jeff pushed a stray lock of hair behind Jared’s ear.

“Thanks,” he finally managed a smile. “I just don’t think there’s anything anyone can do to help, he just needs to help himself.” Jared put his glass of wine down on the coffee table beside the freshly opened bottle. “I was going to get drunk but it’s not worth the headache in the morning. I’m going to turn in instead. Thanks, to both of you, it seems a kind of inadequate thing to say but you both, I...” He blushed. “I need to go to bed before I embarrass myself.”

Jeff gave him a smile. “We’ll lock up for you. Oh hey, before I forget, I have tickets for the ballet next week, I’m dragging Jensen along - would you like to come?”

“I’ve never seen a ballet.”

“I’m guessing it’s Swan Lake?” Jensen grinned at him.

“How did you guess?” He smiled at Jared. “Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“You’ll need a suit, not a dinner jacket, it’s not that formal, but something smart and conservative. Use the card I gave you, okay?”

He nodded. “A suit, I can do that.”

“I’ll call you with the details. Now go and get some sleep. We’ll see ourselves out.”

Jensen came over and gave Jared’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Goodnight Jared, sleep well.”

Jared studied his reflection in the mirror, brushing a speck of dust from the lapel of his suit jacket before adjusting his tie again. It was years since he’d worn one and he just couldn’t seem to get the knot right. Buying a new suit had felt like a pretty big thing, which would probably sound ridiculous to anyone else, but that kind of thing made him feel awkward, self-conscious, so he was kind of proud of himself when he walked out of the shop with everything he needed. He just hoped that what he’d chosen would be okay.

He’d tried on a lot of jackets before deciding on a color, choosing the dark, charcoal grey. He’d picked a white shirt because his grandma had always said that nothing looked smarter than a crisp, white shirt. The assistant had helped him to pick out a tie, well three ties because he couldn’t decide. The one he’d decided to wear tonight was exactly the same color as his suit and was striped with a metallic, silver thread.

He adjusted the knot again and was fairly certain he’d made it worse. He so wanted things to go well tonight. He’d never seen a ballet before, wasn’t sure if he’d like it but that didn’t really matter because he’d be spending the whole evening with Jeff and Jensen and that was something he was really looking forward to.

He was still struggling with the tie when Jensen arrived, having phoned a short while ago to say he’d be picking Jared up earlier than they’d arranged.

He smiled giving Jared a slow and appreciative up and down that made him blush a little.   
“That’s a nice suit, Jared.”

“Really?” He flapped his hand at his own ineffectual efforts at tying his tie. “This thing won’t go right.”

“It looks good on you,” he confirmed, moving closer and unknotting Jared’s tie. “There’s a slight change of plan tonight, which is why I phoned. Jeff has a video conference with a vampire called Felipe de Castro; the king of one of the other districts. He has to take this meeting, it could be important. Hopefully it won’t go on too long and we should be able to make the ballet.” He explained, deftly re-knotting Jared’s tie and straightening his collar. 

“Perfect,” he told him with a smile. “Ready?”

Jared patted his pockets, made sure he had everything he needed. “Yep. Where are we going, to J.D Morgan?”

“No, we’re going to Jeff’s house.”

“He has a house?” Jared couldn’t hide his surprise, he’d never really thought of Jeff actually living somewhere, which was odd.

“He has a townhouse on the Upper West Side.” Jensen smiled. “What, did you think he lived at the office?”

“I just...”

Jensen’s smile broadened. “A lot of vampires own property, Jared.”

“Do you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t mind. As long as we have somewhere secure to spend our days vampires can live almost anywhere. I have an apartment, I’ll show it to you some time.”

“I’d like that,” Jared told him. “Could I ask you something else?”

“Sure, as long as you ask me in the car, we don’t want to be late.”

“You haven’t asked me anything,” Jensen said quietly, glancing away from the road to look at Jared. “In fact you’ve barely said a word which isn’t like you these days. Is everything alright?”

“I was just thinking,” Jared told him. “This is something I’ve had on my mind for a while and wanted to ask, but I’m not sure if I should.”

“That sounds ominous. Is it a vampire question?”

“Do you mind them?” Jared asked him. 

“Not at all. Just ask me, Jared.”

He pulled in a deep breath. “Okay. It’s about Jeff so I know you might not be able to answer. He came to see me a few weeks ago and we were talking about my family. He told me he’d been taken away from his own family when he was seven to be trained as a soldier, told me about his life and it was all about being a soldier. It seemed...” He frowned, fishing for the right word. “Brutal, and I’d never heard of anything like that before.”

“The world is a very different place now to the one that many vampires were human in. Times were harsh, often violent, and survival was less assured, it was something that many fought to do every day. It’s one of the reasons that so many vampires find it difficult to adapt through the ages.”

Jared thought about that, trying to imagine what it must have been like. “Was it like that for you, too?” He asked Jensen.

“I was born to privilege, as was Jeff...”

“The way Jeff lived was privileged?” Jared could barely believe that.

“Very much so, the warrior caste of Jeff’s people were the elite of their society. He told me once that people from other nations would send their children to be trained as he was, though very few were granted the privilege.” Jensen turned to look at him again. “Ask him about it, Jared. I think he’ll tell you everything you want to know.

Jeff’s bow-fronted, brownstone, townhouse was, in Jensen’s opinion, a fairly ugly building from the outside, the inside however was sumptuous. Jeff had eclectic taste , mixing modern furniture with antique in a way Jensen knew he could never pull off. Homes weren’t really vampire essentials but he knew Jeff preferred to have one, in fact he had houses scattered all over the world though he didn’t visit them for years at a time. Jeff kept keepsakes; pieces of memorabilia that over the years had become priceless antiques. There was art too, everywhere you cared to look sketches, paintings, drawings and sculpture from artists Jeff had admired and often known over the centuries. Some pieces were by unknowns and worth very little but there were others that Jeff could sell for six figure sums. 

Jared stared open mouthed as they stood in the entrance hall, too involved in what he was seeing to move until Jeff patiently took him by the arm and led him further into the house.

“I’m sorry about this change in plan, Jared,” Jeff told him, guiding him into the large reception room. “Hopefully we’ll still be able to make it to the ballet. I don’t intend this conference call to take too long.”

Jared smiled at him. “That’s okay, I’m good and this house is... Is that a Matisse?”

“Good eye,” Jeff told him. “It’s a piece he did in Morocco in 1912.”

Jared wondered over to study the painting, eyes large and entranced. “I don’t think Jared’s going to be bored here,” Jensen smiled over at Jeff.

“I’ll be as quick as I can, but I’m curious to know what de Castro wants.”

“Is it true he let Eric Northman live?” Jensen asked him quietly.

“So I hear. He’s not the type to do anything without reason.”

“Eric’s astute, clever. Godric trained him well.” Jensen had served Godric, Eric’s maker--and until recently the sheriff of Area Nine--for some years, and had learned a great deal from him.

Jeff nodded. “I’m less fond of De Castro, but he’s no one’s fool either. Eric did well to survive the takeover.”

“Would you have...” Jensen glanced over at Jared who was slowly moving around the room, intent on the art. “Kept Eric on?”

“Eric would make an excellent ally, particularly if you rewarded his allegiance. I wouldn’t have him as an enemy.”

“Majesty.” One of Jeff’s staff came in. “Your conference call is through.”

He nodded. “Thank you Tom, I’ll be there in just a minute. Jared, feel free to look around. I shouldn’t be too long.” Jeff assured him. “Jensen can show you around.”

“Are there a lot of vampire Kings and Queens?” Jared asked Jensen when Jeff had gone to his office to take his call.

“Quite a few.”

“Are they the oldest vampires?”

“Not always, not every vampire wants to rule.” Felipe de Castro was a vampire who did want to rule, an ambitious King who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He couldn’t help but be curious about this video conference with Jeff, who would no doubt tell him what de Castro was up to. For now he just had Jared to concentrate on.

“Come on; let me show you around the house.”

“We’re too late for the ballet, Jared.” Jeff apologized when he finally emerged from his office. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Jared gave him that gentle smile of his.

“The call was a little more intense than I expected it to be,” he admitted.“Anything we need to worry about?” Jensen asked him.

“A theoretical discussion on vampire unification under one king.”

Jeff saw Jensen’s anger flare. “He sees  _himself_  as that king?”

“According to de Castro he’s simply testing the waters.”

“Bull shit!”

Jeff nodded. “He’s full of it, but it won’t get him what he wants. This isn’t a talk I want to have tonight.” 

He walked over to where Jared had been looking through a book of sketches he’d collected over the years. ”So, as the ballet is off the menu, what would you like to do instead, Jared? Is there something you’d like to go and see, somewhere you’d like to go? Even vampire kings can’t delay ballet performances but I might be able to arrange some other entertainment for you. ”

“There is one thing,” he chewed at his bottom lip, glancing over at Jensen. “I’d really like to see the club.”

“The Savage Garden?”

He nodded at Jeff. “Sandy talks about it all the time and I... I’m just curious.”

“Jared, it’s not...” Jensen shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why?” The boy was unfailingly honest and Jeff knew why Jensen was reluctant to take him to the club.

“Jared, look around you and tell me what you see,” Jeff asked him, coming to sit back down beside him on the couch.

“A beautiful house, antiques, art...”

Jeff nodded. “The house is just a place. There’s a sealed room in the basement, a tomb if you like, where I sleep during the day. The antiques aren’t antiques to me, they’re things I once had a use for. The weapons here are weapons I’ve used to fight and to kill my enemies with over centuries. The wealth that I have, started out as the coin and the jewels I took from those I fed upon. The art is the only thing that’s relatively untainted by the blood of my victims, but I’m a vampire, not a human and being a vampire dictates everything that I do, just as your humanity colors your actions. I was a human for over forty years but I’ve been a vampire almost two and a half thousand.” He studied Jared carefully as he spoke, gauging his reaction. He wasn’t distressed by what he was hearing; there was no increase in his heart rate, just fascination and interest in his expression. 

“What I’m trying to say, Jared, is that although I may look human, sound human - I’m not, I’m a vampire. The Savage Garden is a vampire club, a place where we can be entirely ourselves. You may not like what you see there and that could change things for you.”

“I understand that,” Jared told him. 

“And you still want to go?”

“You really need to be sure, Jared,” Jensen added. “Sandy may have told you about the club, you may have seen bite marks on her, you may think you know vampires...”

“I don’t, I don’t think that at all,” he said earnestly. “I don’t know anything about you, but I want to.”

“On that night, a few weeks ago, when I took offense at what your building super was saying to you, you weren’t comfortable when I acted as a vampire,” Jensen reminded him.

“That wasn’t...” Jared frowned, hesitated. “It wasn’t because you were being a vampire. He was always saying things to me, Fischer. Maybe I should have been happy that someone was scaring him as much as he scared me, but I wasn’t. It just felt as if I was the one being threatened.”

“I’m sorry,” Jensen told him.

Jared nodded turning to Jeff. “I’d still like to go.”

Jeff nodded and gave him a smile of reassurance. “Then we’ll take you.”

In the club Jared’s eyes were everywhere, watching the band, the vampires and their human companions at the tables and on the dance floor. The curiosity, Jeff realized, wasn’t nervous, it was innocent. It still marked him prey as easily as fear would have, especially in rooms that were filled with some of the most skilled predators on earth.

Jeff wanted him. The boy had quickly become an obsession that he was finding particularly hard to resist. Bringing him to the club, agreeing to it, was a part of that obsession. He wanted to show off this boy--his boy--to all the other predators he knew would be there. He wanted to show them that all this beauty, all this innocence was his.

Then there was Jensen.

When he’d made Jensen, Jeff had created one of the finest vampires he’d ever known. He was a vampire with few equals - highly intelligent, a ruthless predator who had learned to hide his nature beneath an easy smile and a sharp sense of humor. Add to that a stunningly beautiful face and body that even Michelangelo had not been able to fully do justice to.

Jeff had seen his obsession for Jared reflected in his favorite. It was something he’d never seen in him before. Something he would have killed any other vampire for, but Jensen wasn’t any other vampire.

He waited until Jared was immersed in talking to the girl, Sandy, before leaning in to whisper into Jensen’s ear.

“You want him, don’t you?”

He was met by bright green eyes that seemed surprised by the question. He hadn’t surprised Jensen in a long time.

“You’re my maker,” Jensen told him. “Your desires will always outweigh my own, you taught me that. It’s vampire law.”

Jeff smiled. “Answer the question.”

“I do, I can’t lie to you. I wanted him from the minute I saw him.”

“What do you think Jared wants?” Jeff asked him.

“I don’t think he’d be able to decide.”

“Nor do I, so perhaps we should continue with things the way they are and share the boy’s affections.”

There was surprise in Jensen’s eyes. “You’d do that?”

He reached a hand up to stroke his fingertips down Jensen’s cheek. “With you I would,” he told him, before leaning in for a kiss.

When he eventually broke the kiss Jared was watching them.

The boy’s face flushed brightly, something Jeff loved to see. “Sorry, I erm...” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Did you like watching us kiss, Jared?” Jensen asked him.

His blush deepening, the boy nodded, honest as always.

“We should show you the rest of the club,” Jeff decided.

“I’d like to see the other floor,” he admitted.

Vampire bars and nightclubs were generally geared towards human customers, so they were inevitably gothic styled and usually red and black. Whilst it was true that vampires were drawn towards red for obvious reasons, they also loved colors that had been lost to them since they’d come to live in the dark. The decor of the Savage Garden had been designed by a vampire for vampires and Jeff had spared no expense. The place was stunning decorated in bright jewel colors against a background of black, with lots of silk, satin and heavy velvets.

It was very different on the upper floor, quieter; the decor even more opulent than it was downstairs. There were sumptuous couches and curtained booths, the music and the lighting were soft. Every vampire here seemed to have a human with them, someone they were drinking from and Jeff watched Jared’s reaction carefully as they were led to a raised booth by the club’s manager, Kane.

“Can I fetch you anything?” Kane asked them, after they’d taken their seats.

“Jared, would you like a drink?”

“Could I just have a soda? A Coke or something?”

“Sure.” Kane told him. “We have the full range of synthetic blood, including Royalty, Majesty, or if you’d prefer I could have one of the waiters join you.”

“Nothing for me?” Jeff told him. “Jensen?”

“Well, as you’re offering, and you have the full range. I’ll have the Royalty.” Jensen grinned.

Kane gritted his teeth. “As my sheriff wishes,” he said, face dark as he left the table.

“How much does Royalty go for these days?” Jeff asked him, he drank synthetic blood now and then but not often.

“I have no idea,” Jensen confessed. “I’d never buy the stuff, it’s a rip-off.”

“What’s Royalty?” Jared wanted to know.

“It’s supposed to be half high quality synthetic blood and half human. From the blood of royalty, if you can believe that, hence the name,” Jensen explained.

“But it can’t be, can it?” Jared asked.

“No,” Jeff smiled. “It isn’t, it’s just a gimmick, but it does contain half human blood and it's from the less common blood groups. The blood is donated, in case you’re curious. It’s very expensive.”

“Do...” Jared licked nervously at his lips. “The waiters, do they all..?”

“All the human waiters here are willing to be fed from. We must get close to fifty applications for jobs here every week. A lot of them say they’ll work for no pay,” Jensen explained. “Kane has to be careful who he hires, some of the people who want jobs need psychiatric help.”

“What about those who don’t?”

“What are you asking, Jared?” Jeff studied his face closely. “What it’s like to be bitten?”

“Yeah.”

“When it’s done well, it’s better than the best sex you’ve ever had.” Jensen told him.

“That wouldn’t be difficult,” he admitted. “I don’t have a whole lot of experience, well, hardly any really.” He turned to face Jeff. “I look around here and I want to...” He hesitated.

“What is it you want, Jared? To make love, to be bitten?”

The boy’s heart was pounding “I want both.”

“Who with?” Jensen asked him.

“Both of you?”

Jared could barely remember leaving the club. He’d fumbled the keys in the lock so many times that in the end Jensen had taken them from him and unlocked the doors. He was nervous but he was excited, too, and the combination had turned him into some kind of babbling klutz. He was trying desperately to calm down, didn’t want Jeff or Jensen to lose patience with him, maybe change their minds. He wanted this so much.

He stood in the middle of the apartment, pulled in a few deep breaths, tried to relax, if he didn’t he was going to cream his pants right here like some overeager teenager. It took him a moment to realize Jeff was speaking to him.

“Just remember, Jared, that we won’t do anything that you don’t want us to,” Jeff told him, his hand coming to rest softly against his cheek. “You’re in charge. If this gets to be too much, all you have to do is say, and we’ll stop. This is just for you, okay?”

Jeff’s touch was just an absent caress, but it still sent a shiver of pleasure down Jared's spine.

“Have you been with anyone before, Jared?” Jensen’s voice was soft and curious, from behind him, his hands slipping beneath Jared’s jacket to rest lightly on his hips.

“No,” he felt a blush slowly creeping up his face. “I’ve kinda messed around, kissed an-and hand jobs...” He’d tried to give a blow job once, in college but it had been a disaster and Colin, the guy he’d been with, had almost choked him. “Guess that’s kind of sad for a twenty-six year old, huh?”

“I wasn’t that much younger my first time,” Jensen told him. “And at least you’ve had some experience, all I had were impure thoughts.”

Jeff’s eyes moved to Jensen, the look in them soft and Jared could see desire there, maybe something more.

“Were you still human then?” Jared asked him. 

“Very human,” It was Jeff that answered. “A brave soldier, strong and beautiful, that’s why I wanted him so much.”

“Your first time was with Jeff?” Jared was surprised but eager to know more. “Did he make you a vampire then?”

“No.”

“Were you a vampire then?” he asked Jeff.

“So many questions,” he smiled. “Yes, I was a vampire, an old one even then.”

“How old?” Jared wanted to know.

He heard Jensen laugh. “Perhaps Jared needs a distraction.” 

The sudden lick to the lobe of his ear before it was nipped lightly between teeth that didn’t feel like fangs certainly did that, pulling a groan from Jared.

“Is that what you need Jared, distraction?” Jeff’s hand moved aside Jared’s jacket to rest over his trousers, lightly cupping his cock.

“Yes,” he gasped out, “please.”

Jeff kissed him, a light kiss against the side of his jaw before moving up to taste his lips, his tongue licking an insistent demand until Jared opened up to him. The kiss he was pulled into was intense, deep and Jared kissed him back, hands coming up to bracket Jeff’s face.

As they kissed, Jeff’s hand began to lightly massage his cock through his pants and he became almost instantly hard, hips jerking involuntarily.

“Does that feel good?” Jensen asked softly from behind him. His hands moved from their resting place on his hips to trail around and down, resting at either side of Jeff’s hand before moving up to unbutton the waistband of his trousers, the fingers of one hand skirting lightly beneath the fastening, then Jeff’s hand moved away as Jensen unzipped him.

“I want to see you.” Jeff told him, breaking the kiss. “I want you to let Jensen undress you for me, can you do that?”

Jared licked at his lips, not trusting himself to speak, just nodding at Jeff.

Jeff moved a short distance away, taking a seat on the couch and sitting back, dark eyes fixed on Jared.

It startled him when he felt the touch to his ankle, saw Jensen knelt in front of him, unfastening his shoes.

“Eyes on me, Jared,” Jeff told him. “I don’t want you to look away.”

He felt his heart speed up inside his chest but he nodded meeting Jeff’s steady gaze.  
Jensen lifted first one foot and then the other, taking off his shoes and removing his socks before standing and moving behind Jared to slip off his jacket. He pulled out the tail of his shirt then moved around to face him once more, carefully unfastening his tie before undoing the buttons on his shirt and pulling it the rest of the way out, revealing the undershirt beneath.

“Are you still hard, Jared?” 

He nodded. “Yes, Jeff.”

“Jensen’s going to feel just how hard, I want you to keep looking at me, okay?”

“Okay.” Jared bit down on his lower lip, anticipating Jensen’s touch so much that he was close to coming in his pants. He jumped at the first touch of Jensen’s hand moving down past his undershirt into the open fly of his pants and sliding beneath the waist band of his boxers.

“God!”

“Are you going to come Jared?”

Jensen’s hand stilled, cool against the flush of his skin.

“I-I’m close,” he admitted.

“I want you to look at me, concentrate. I don’t want you to come until I say it’s time. Can you try to do that?”

He balled his hands into fists at his sides. “I’m trying.”

Jensen’s hand resumed its steady slide beneath his underwear, fingers stroking slowly along his length before withdrawing again and Jared didn’t know how he’d stopped himself from coming but he was panting like he’d just run a marathon.

“You did well, Jared. That was good.”

Jensen unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt so that he could slip it off, the tie with it and Jared found himself in just in his undershirt, his pants unbuttoned with his rigid cock, the only thing that was holding them up. They went next though, his trousers, pushed to the top of his thighs and then allowed to drop.

“Step out of them, Jared,” Jensen instructed him.

He did as he was asked and stood there in his undershirt and boxers, dizzy with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, eyes fixed on Jeff’s but trying to sense where Jensen was all the time, what he was going to do next.

The answer to that was that Jensen was behind him, his hands raising the hem of his undershirt, raising it enough so he could rub his palm over Jared’s abs. It shouldn’t have felt like anything, except it did, it felt  _too_  good and he had to clench his fists again, will himself not to come. He thought if he could close his eyes for a minute, break eye contact with Jeff, then he would be okay but he’d promised he wouldn’t look away.

“You’re fine, Jared,” Jeff told him and he wondered if the vampire could read his mind or something. “You’re almost there. It’s making my mouth water thinking about watching you come for me for the first time. It’s making me ache to touch myself, seeing you like this. I want Jensen to lower the waistband of your boxers, let me look at that cock of yours. Are you cut, Jared, circumcised?”

“Yes.” He gulped, the words and that ceaseless, gentle touch of Jensen’s hand against his abs, were almost too much. 

“Can Jensen show me?”

“ _God_!” He was  _so_  close, wasn’t sure just how much longer he could last. “I-I don’t know, I...”

“Slow, deep breaths, Jared. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think you could do this,” Jeff told him.

Jared pulled in a breath, held it and then let it out slowly, did it again, his eyes not leaving Jeff’s, desperately trying to calm himself. He  _could_  do it, he wanted to.

“Better?” Jeff asked him, after a moment.

He nodded. “Better.”

“Can Jensen show me?” He asked again.

“Yes,” he said quickly, his voice breaking a little as his mouth dried up on him.

Jensen’s hands left his body and he felt him move, was aware of him coming to kneel in front of him, struggled to keep his eyes on Jeff and not glance down at Jensen.

He anticipated the touch but still gasped when he felt Jensen’s hands on him, fingers hooking beneath the elastic waist at the front of his boxers, moving it down, the other hand taking out his cock and moving his underwear beneath, the band of elastic now beneath his length, putting pressure on his sac instead.

Jensen got up and moved aside and Jared watched, self-conscious and face flushed with heat, as Jeff’s eyes raked down and studied his aching cock before meeting his eyes again. 

“Almost there, Jared. You’re doing fine.”

Jensen was behind him again, raising his undershirt to beneath his armpits, removing each arm from the sleeve before moving in front of him to pull it off over his head. It should have felt strange, being undressed like that and it did, it felt like he was a child, he felt anxious and self-conscious but more turned on than he’d ever felt in his life.

His underwear was last and Jensen slid his boxers down over the cheeks of his ass, pushing them down to the tops of his thighs so that they dropped to the floor.

“Step out, Jared,” he told him, moving his underwear out of the way once he had.

“All undressed for me so I can look at you. Are you gonna let me see everything, Jared?”

“Everything?” Jared didn’t understand.

“Before I let you come, do you think you could turn around and bend over, let Jensen hold you open so I can see my way inside you?”

“I-I don’t know, I...”

“You can say no, Jared, that’s okay. You’re in charge, remember?”

He nodded. This was so intimate, being naked was one thing but letting Jensen part his ass cheeks so Jeff could look at his hole. He thought about it, his cock stiffening even as he imagined himself doing what Jeff had asked.

“I-I want to,” he admitted.

“Tell me what it is you want to do, let me hear the words.”

“I want you t-to see everything,” Jared told him.

“Good. I want you to keep your eyes open when you do this for me and I don’t want you to come, not just yet, soon, I promise. Now, turn around.”

Jared did as he was asked. It had been hard to meet and hold Jeff’s eyes as he was being undressed, he’d felt so exposed but turning away from him felt even harder, made him feel less sure of what he was doing.

“Good, you’re doing fine; now spread your legs a little, a little more. That’s it. Now I want you to bend over and hold on to your ankles.”

Jared obeyed, feeling a nervous tremor moving through him.

“Stay just like that.”

Jensen’s touch, coming so suddenly after Jeff’s words, startled him, but one of Jensen’s cool hands settled at the base of his spine and kneaded the muscle there gently. Once he felt a little calmer and the shaking stopped Jensen’s hands moved to his ass, slipping along the crack before gently pressing at his cheeks and holding him open.

“Please!” Jared wasn’t sure what it was that he wanted.

“Ssh,” Jeff told him. “Almost done, I just need you to answer some questions for me.”

“Questions?”

“Has anyone ever touched you there, Jared? Anyone ever been inside you?”

“No,” he admitted. “No one.”

“Has anyone ever put anything inside you?”

“No,” he said less certainly. “Except me, I-I have.”

“Tell me what you’ve put inside yourself.”

“A-a dildo.” He was blushing so much now, so embarrassed at telling them that.

“And did you like feeling that inside of you?”

“I-It was awkward but it felt good.”

“Do you have it with you here?”

“Y-yes.”

“I’m going to want you to show it to me when we go into the bedroom. You’ve done well Jared, so I’m going to reward you. Do you still want to come?”

“Yes, please. Jeff,” He found himself nodding. “ _Please_.”

“Stand up then.”

Jensen released his buttocks and Jared stood.

“Turn around and look at me, same rules as before.”

There was a kind of relief to following them, having Jeff’s eyes on him once more, keeping him grounded despite how much his body thrummed with want and need.

“Jensen is going to make you come for me now and I want to watch. I don’t want you to look away or close your eyes I want to be able to see it in your eyes. This will feel good, I promise.”

He gasped the moment Jensen touched him, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, and then he felt something flick across the tip, barely there. More flicks, from what he knew was Jensen’s tongue, maddeningly light, random touches that were making Jared so hard, making him ache so much that he wanted to cry in frustration. Warm, moist lips were suddenly around the head of his cock and Jensen’s tongue was swirling around him and teasing his slit.

He wanted to look down. He wanted to see his cock in Jensen’s beautiful mouth. He wanted to move his hips and push his way inside, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t break eye contact with Jeff, couldn’t come until he said so. His balls were drawn up so tightly and he could feel the beat of his pulse deep within his groin.

“Oh!” Jared cried out as Jensen’s hand moved away and that warm mouth sucked him in. “J-Jeff, _please_.”

“Tell me how that feels.”

“Good, so g-good.” It was taking every ounce of willpower he had not to come, not to reach down and grab on to Jensen and pound into that perfect, tortuous mouth. He couldn’t keep his arms down by his sides anymore, they were raised, hands suspended somewhere over Jensen’s head, fingernails biting into his palms as he squeezed his fists together tighter and tighter in an effort to stop himself from gripping onto Jensen’s hair and fucking that mouth for all he was worth.

Jensen was moving faster now and Jared wanted to look down, see his head bobbing on his cock as his hands held on to Jared’s sweat soaked hips like they were the only thing tethering him to the earth.

“God! Jeff, please,  _please_ ,” He knew he was babbling. “I can’t hold it, I  _can’t_.”

“Come.”

It felt as though his body had exploded at the word, the orgasm ripping out of him as his body seized and corded. Then suddenly it was over and he felt as though someone had cut the strings holding him up as his legs gave out beneath him. He would have dropped if not for Jensen moving up to catch him.

“Easy, easy, I’ve got you,” he told him, hand coming up to smooth the sweat soaked hair away from Jared’s eyes, smiling at him.

Jeff was suddenly there too, holding him, his smile broad, dark eyes shining.

“Loved watching you do that for me, sweetheart. You okay?”

“Kinda wobbly,” he admitted with a smile.

“That’s gonna pass once your heart slows down,” he told him, pressing his palm against the centre of Jared’s chest.

“You did well,” Jensen grinned. “Taste good too.”

Jared’s blush came back at full force.

He got his breath back, slowly, found his feet. “It felt... Everything was so intense, I can’t believe how hard I came. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“We’re not finished yet, Jared,” Jeff assured him. “You okay now?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. Now we’re going to go into the bedroom and you’re gonna show me something, remember?”

The dildo,  _God_  he remembered. He nodded. 

He was nervous again when they entered the bedroom, relieved too that the place was, at least, tidy, the clothes hung up, the bed made. Sandy got on his case about things like that. He crossed to the nightstand, opening the draw where he kept his stuff. He took out the dildo, biting his bottom lip nervously as he turned to show it to Jeff, his hands shaking a little. It wasn’t anything fancy, big or embarrassing as dildos go. Hell he’d been so nervous when he bought  _this one_. He remembered it had taken him about a week to build up the courage to use it on himself. Sex toys, masturbation, nothing like that had ever been discussed in the Padalecki household. They were perversions, sex outside of marriage was dirty, as for being gay and kissing a boy... He didn’t want to prod too hard at that particular memory.

“You okay?” Jeff’s eyes were on him, concern in them.

“Yeah, I-I was just thinking.”

“Do you need this to stop, Jared? We can do that right now, it doesn’t have to go any further if you don’t want it to.”

“No, I-I’m good,” he admitted. He was nervous, yes, but he wanted this. “I just zoned out, sorry.”

“Okay,” Jeff nodded. “Now show me what you’ve got there.”

“It, it’s just a dildo, nothing fancy.”

Jeff took it from his hand, studied it for a moment before his eyes came up to capture Jared’s. “Tell me about it,” he asked him as he ran the tip lightly up his bare arm, making him shiver. “Tell me how you use it.”

“How? I-I have condoms,” he pointed to the drawer. “They’re ribbed and...” Jeff was still playing with the dildo, running it lightly over Jared’s skin, across his pecs and down the centre of his chest to touch his abs. It was causing his flaccid, and he thought exhausted, cock to twitch and take interest.

“They’re ribbed,” Jeff prompted.

“Condoms, yeah, I use those and lube.”

“When was the last time you used it, Jared?”

“A-about a week ago, I guess.”

“Here, in the bedroom?”

He nodded. It had never occurred to him to use it anywhere else.

“Were you on the bed?”

He nodded again. “Yeah.”

“Show me where you were, the position you were in.”

“I was on my back, I...”

“I want to see, Jared. Show me.”

Jared blushed but he lay down on the bed, acutely aware of Jeff’s intense gaze as he stood beside him. Jensen too, watching from his seat at the foot of the bed.

“I was here,” he told him.

“And your legs were closed like that, stretched out in front of you?”

“Well no, I...”

“Show me,” he repeated.

Jared pulled his legs up into position, legs wide, knees bent, feet flat on the bed. His cock was filling rapidly as he did so.

“Now your hands, pretend you’re holding this, show me where it would go.”

Jared moved his right hand down, tilting his ass up a little and moving his fingers so they were hovering over his hole.

“That’s good. Now what about your other hand? Show me what you did with that.”

He brought his left hand up to hold his nipple between his finger and thumb.

“Are they sensitive, Jared?”

He gulped, nodded. “Yeah.”

“Show me what you do.”

He was hard again, surprising even himself. He rolled his nipple, pulled on it the way he liked.

“Can you remember what you were thinking about that last time when you pushed this inside you?”

He  _could_  remember and he couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking nervously over to Jensen. The flush rushed up from his neck to stain his cheeks a bright, embarrassing red. It used to be that his jerk off fantasy was Johnny Depp, complete with Captain Jack Sparrow eyeliner, sometimes with the gold teeth and the rum drunk slur to his speech, but now it was Jensen or Jeff, sometimes it was both of them. But even his wildest fantasies about them hadn’t come close to making him feel the way he was feeling tonight.

“You were thinking about Jensen?” Jeff asked him.

He nodded, too embarrassed to look at either of them.

He was startled to feel the bed suddenly dip, to find Jensen stretched out on the bed beside him, head propped on his hand to gaze down at him.

“God I’m so sorry,” Jared apologized, avoiding eye contact.

“Sorry you were thinking about me while you were masturbating? That’s nothing to be sorry for, though this,” Jensen now held the dildo in his hand. “This doesn’t really do me justice.”

There was a chuckle from across the room and Jared saw that Jeff had moved away from the side of the bed and was slowly undressing, watching the two of them.

“Was I fucking  _you_ , Jared, or were you fucking me?” Jensen wanted to know.

“Y-you were fucking me.”

“With this?” He asked, stroking the dildo down from beneath Jared’s chin to rest on his belly, just above his now fully erect cock. “Or was it me inside you?”

“It was you,” he admitted.

“And was I playing with these?” He left the dildo where it was and brought his hand up to Jared’s nipple, brushing his fingers away and replacing them with his own, doing exactly what Jared had been doing.

“Like that?” he asked.

“H-harder.”

“Mmh, I like that,” Jensen purred. The pressure from his thumb and forefinger increased on his nipple, twisting it harshly before pulling it slowly away from his chest, the pain needle sharp, making Jared hiss in pleasure, cock twitching.

“Was I fucking you hard, Jared?”

“Yes,” he admitted, panting as Jensen continued to abuse his nipple. “And...”

Jensen licked over the other nipple before pulling it into his mouth, suckling.

“And?” he asked him, releasing the pebbled nub, and Jared saw that Jensen’s eyes were blown, the startling green barely framing the pupil.

“You...” Jared shook his head, couldn’t say the rest, couldn’t force out the words around his tongue.

“Tell me, Jared, please. I want to know.”

“You held me d-down.”

“And you liked that?” Jensen asked him, softly, licking a stripe along Jared’s jaw to nibble at his ear.

He nodded, couldn’t speak, didn’t want to look at Jensen, too afraid that the prickle behind his eyes would become something more.

Jensen’s hand caught his chin, turning Jared’s face back to look at him. “It’s okay to like how that makes you feel, a lot of people enjoy giving a little control over to someone else.” 

He placed kisses over Jared’s burning face before moving to his mouth and Jared opened up, let him in, losing himself in the deep, hungry kiss.

Jensen was the one to break it, moving back a little to look into Jared’s eyes, his fingers combing the damp hair back off his face.

“Are you, okay?  _Is_  this too much?”

Jared pulled in a deep breath, thinking about both questions before answering, watching Jeff come to sit at the other side of the bed, scooping up Jared’s hand into both of his and bringing it up to his lips, touching his knuckles with a chaste kiss.

“I’m okay,” He told them both. “I want this, please. I’ve just never spoken to anyone about anything like this before.”

“Not even Chad?” Jensen asked him.

Jared shook his head. Chad would talk about beautiful women and the ideal shape of the perfect breast. He would tell Jared about the girlie magazines that he bought and which of the girls inside were the best jerk-off fodder. He’d never talk about the cock he took down back alleys and in stranger’s cars to pay off the mountain of never-ending debt his drug habit caused him.

There wasn’t anyone else. As much as he liked Sandy he wasn’t up for talking about his sexual fantasies to her. The only other people he knew well were Misha and his wife, Vicki, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine having that kind of conversation with them.

“Perhaps, on a night that isn’t this one, you could see how you felt about being restrained, let us help you find just where that blur between pain and pleasure is for you. It’s different for everyone,” Jeff told him.

“I-I think I might like that,” Jared admitted.

“Good,” he smiled. “Now I think Jensen has way too many clothes on.” He gave Jared’s hand a tug, encouraging him to sit up. “And I have this urge to watch him fill that pretty mouth of yours with his cock. Do you think you could let him do that, think you could get him off?”

“I could try,” Jared told him.

“Okay.”

Jensen quickly stripped off then sat with his back against the headboard and had Jared come and kneel on all fours between his legs. Jared wasn’t particularly good at this, mainly because he hadn’t had enough practice, but he was willing to give it his best shot.

Jensen’s cock wasn’t as long as Jared’s, it was thicker though and it was uncut, the first uncut cock that Jared had ever seen, the slide of the foreskin fascinated him.

“Uncut cocks aren’t that unusual, Jared.” Jeff chuckled from his seat at the bottom of the bed.

“I just never saw one before.”

Jensen grinned “No tricks up its sleeve, I swear.”

Jared laughed and Jensen leaned forward, cradling his face in gentle hands, his scrutiny soft and thoughtful as he pushed Jared’s hair back behind his ears.

“What?” Jared asked him, smiling back.

He placed a chaste kiss on Jared’s lips. “Five hours ‘till dawn, Jared. You’re on the clock.”

“Oh yeah, right.” He wanted to get this right, and to do that he had to get rid of all his hang-ups and just go for it. He thought about what he’d like and tried his best, remembering all the time how good the blow job Jensen had given him had been and trying to duplicate some of the things he’d done.

He concentrated hard on what he was doing and if the breathy moans Jensen was making were anything to go by he had to be doing something right.

He was distracted by Jeff moving behind him and the feel of a hand on his buttock startled him a little.

“I just want to touch, relax, Jared, it’s fine”

He did as Jeff said, getting his rhythm back, thankful he hadn’t bitten down or anything.

“Jared?” Jensen stroked his fingers through his hair. “You still with me?”

He glanced up at Jensen, nodding slightly as he let his cock glide in slowly, tried to get it as deep as he could without gagging, it wasn’t as easy as Jensen had made it look and he was messing up the rhythm.

“Do you think you could let Jensen fuck your mouth?” Jeff asked him, his hand stroking soothing patterns over Jared’s buttocks and lower back.

“Not going to hurt you,” Jensen promised, eyes meeting his. “Please?”

Jared met his eyes, nodded, he could do that, he was sure he could.

Jensen brought both hands down to bracket his face.

“I’m not going to hold you too hard, just pull away if you don’t like this, you’re in charge, remember.” His thumbs stroked softly over Jared’s cheekbones. “All you have to do is relax your jaw and let me do the rest.”

Jensen’s thrusts were shallow, his hands holding him lightly and guiding his movement as he fucked slowly into his mouth.

“Feels so good,” he told him. “A little more now, okay?”

Jensen moved faster, deeper, but his grip didn’t tighten, just guided him up and down, his cock driving in and out filling his mouth and nudging the back of his throat. It wasn’t enough to make him gag but he was close and he knew his throat would be sore later despite all the saliva he was making, he had to be drooling, which was embarrassing but he could hear Jensen’s gasps and moans of pleasure and he could taste the vampire on his tongue; coppery and salty and he wasn’t going to pull away.

“Fuck, Jared, it feels so good, so good. Almost there, almost...” Jensen gave a sudden shout as he came, pushing Jared off as he shot come into his mouth the rest splattering over his face.

Before Jared could move or do anything Jensen was sitting up, pulling Jared onto his knees as though he weighed nothing at all, wrapping himself around him, his hands running over the contours of his body before coming up to frame his face as he licked and kissed it clean, then plundered Jared’s mouth with a deep invading kiss.

When Jensen eventually pulled away his eyes were huge and wild and his fangs had dropped into place over his moist lower lip.

Jared gasped in surprise, his body instinctively pulling away, but Jensen held him firm.

“Not going to hurt you.”

“I-I know, I...” He let his hands rest on Jensen’s shoulders unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of the long, sharp looking fangs. “I just wasn’t expecting...”

“You did that.” He felt Jeff move in behind him, body pressed against his. “That’s how good you made him feel.” Jeff’s hands came to rest on his shoulders, then began to move tracing patterns over his back. Despite the shock of seeing Jensen’s fangs Jared was hard and the knowing touches were making him even harder.

“Do you want to feel me inside you, Jared?” Jeff whispered, lips close to his ear, and he did, he wanted that so much he’d beg if he had to.

“Yes.”

Jeff’s tongue flicked at the shell of his ear and Jared arched his head back, giving him more access and Jensen’s mouth was suddenly there too, lips nipping at his Adams apple, then kissing at his throat, no trace of fangs.

“I want to see your face,” Jeff told him, voice a low, dark growl. “Love to watch you come, see you fall apart.” 

It was almost too much sensation, lying between Jensen’s legs, back against his chest. He could feel the hard line of Jensen’s cock and wondered at how quickly he’d become aroused again. Jensen’s fangs had disappeared and he was nuzzling and kissing at his ears while his hand played with Jared’s nipples, flicking, rolling and nipping at them while Jeff stroked light fingers over his cock, his balls and he was already close to coming, head thrown back, bathed in sweat and panting like he was running a race. The touch of the finger against the pucker of his hole made him start and dragged a whine from behind closed lips.

The finger was slick with lube and it pushed inside him slowly, not hurting as he expected it to, the intrusion just feeling a little strange.

“Feel okay?” Jeff asked him.

“Feels good,” he admitted.

Jeff’s other hand wrapped around Jared’s cock, not hard, just jacking him slowly.

“ _God_ , dd-don’t, too close, I’m gonna come, don’t.”

“That’s okay, it’ll help.”

“But I...”

“Trust me,” Jeff told him, fingers tightening a little around his cock, finger stroking inside him in the same rhythm.

“Come on, Jared, let it go,” Jensen told him. “Come.”

He arched suddenly, uncontrollably, jaw clenching, threads of come painting his belly and his heart thundering in his chest. When he came down again, sprawled bonelessly against Jensen, Jeff was smiling at him.

Two fingers stretched and burned a little as they pushed inside, not too deep, just in and out slowly, Jeff occasionally stroking his slowly softening, spent length. Every muscle in Jared’s body felt lax. One of Jensen’s hands was rubbing over his abs and spreading the semen, the other still working his nipple, the sharp nip sending a throb of arousal through him that his body was too sated to respond to. 

Jeff’s fingers slid out of him, the tightness easing as they did but they pushed back inside a moment later, slicker, harder, going deeper and Jeff’s other hand came off his cock, angling his hips a little more. Jensen’s hand moved off his belly to hook beneath a sweat soaked knee cap and bring his leg up. Jeff’s fingers slid deeper, touched something...

“ _God_!” It made him buck involuntarily and Jared knew it had to be his prostate. He moaned when the fingers were withdrawn again but they came back. Three, it had to be three and the burn of entry was sharper this time, making him hiss but the feeling of being so full and yet so open at the same time was amazing. He didn’t think there was any life left in his cock but it was stirring, filling with every burning push of those fingers in and almost out, every hard nip and twist of his nipple shooting down into his groin, making him groan and want.

“More, god,  _please_ , more.”

He groaned when instead of getting more the fingers were withdrawn and he heard Jensen chuckle, as he hiked his leg a little higher. Then Jeff was there, so close, and he felt his lube coated cock nudge up against his entrance, so much larger than fingers and he wasn’t sure if he could take that. Then suddenly he was pushing, breaching him and it hurt, fuck it hurt.

“ _Jeff_!”

“Easy, it’s okay, Jared.”

“No, it  _won’t_ , it...” He wanted to panic, move away, but he couldn’t Jeff was pushing his way inside him and then he was through the rings of muscle, still pushing slowly, and relentlessly deep inside him. “Fuck,  _fuck_!”

“Relax, Jared, you’re tensing up. Just let it happen, you’re gonna be fine.”

Jared let out a long shuddering breath, trying to do what Jeff asked, letting himself sink back against Jensen.

“That’s it,” Jensen told him, hands stroking him. “Open your eyes for me.”

He didn’t even realize he’d closed them.

“That’s good, now unclench your fists, relax, just relax.”

Jeff had stopped pushing, he realized. Holding still, waiting for him. He knew that he could say no, tell them he’d had enough and it would be okay, but he didn’t want that.

“There we go, that’s better,” Jeff said quietly, and Jared realized the hurt had eased. “Think you can wrap that other leg around my waist?”

He did as he said, heel coming to rest on the curve of Jeff’s ass.

“That’s good. Ready?”

He nodded and Jeff pushed, not stopping as Jared fought not to tense up.

Before he could think too hard on the burn, the fullness, Jensen was raising his leg up to his chest as Jeff tilted his ass up and began to rock into him, slowly at first, then he was moving inside Jared, cock stroking long and deep and then suddenly hitting that amazing place inside him with every single stroke. It was too much and not enough at the same time and Jared was keening, shouting, feeling like he was coming apart.

And then...

The pain was sharp and exquisite, piercing his throat and Jared cried out with the shock of it until he felt the sudden pull reaching down like lightening through his chest, his belly, his balls and he could feel his cock shooting, hear his own cry before he blacked out.

“Jared, hey?” A hand tapped at his cheek. “C’mon, sweetheart.” 

His eyelids felt heavy but he opened them anyway, found himself laid out between Jeff and Jensen.

“Back with us?” Jeff asked him.

“Did I explode?”

Jensen laughed. “Pretty much.”

“Wait you...” he reached up with a hand that didn’t really want to cooperate to touch his neck, felt the marks there. “You bit me.”

“Just a taste,” he smiled. “Feel good?”

“I think so,” he glanced down at himself. “Did my cock break?”

Jeff chuckled. “We should check that.” He ran his hand down Jared’s torso to curl around his cock. He wasn’t fully erect but he wasn’t flaccid either.

“How is that even possible?”

Jensen smiled down at him before holding up his index finger. “The night’s not over yet Jared, we don’t want you to miss out on it.” He bit into the tip of his finger and Jared saw the blood well up from a tiny puncture wound. “You’ve already tasted a drop from Jeff, this is just a little more, wake you up, it’s safe,” Jensen assured him.

Eyes wide Jared licked the blood off the offered finger.

“There we go.” His cock, still held in Jeff’s loose grip, began to swell. “Gonna be good for me, let me taste you?” Jeff asked him.

Jared nodded running his fingers across the puncture wounds in his neck again, the touch making him shiver pleasantly.

“Not there this time.” Jeff released his cock to move lower to the junction where his leg and body met, rubbing over it with his thumb. “Right here, you ready?”

Jared nodded, watched Jeff’s fangs snick into place then tensed as he began to nuzzle his way down Jared’s body, fangs grazing across his flesh without breaking it, but the idea was making his body tense with anticipation. His cock wasn’t nervous though, it was already bobbing up against his belly, the head glazed with precome.

Jeff moved his leg to the side and began to lick over that same spot he’d smoothed over earlier with his thumb and it occurred to Jared that he must reek down there, he must reek everywhere, covered as he was with slowly drying sweat and come. He was distracted by the touch of Jensen’s fingers, carding back the hair away from his brow, by the stunning green eyes that were so intent on his.

The bite was sudden and agonizingly slow, as the fangs pierced his flesh making him gasp, eyes ready to roll back in his head. Jensen’s hand was on his cheek, comforting and then the needle hot pain changed, morphed into something slow and exquisite and there was a pull that started at his fingertips and his toes, that same feeling of lightning spreading through his body, fingers of it, branching and branching. He could feel his body arching as every ounce of that energy seems to pour into his groin and his cock released.

“ _Fuck_!” It’s a shout, a scream, bursting out of him.

He didn’t pass out this time; he stayed with it to feel the zing of energy slowly dissipate as he came down, panting like he’d run a marathon.

“That was amazing!”

Jensen laughed. “It was, even from where I was sitting.”

Jeff sat up, licking at his lips. “You okay, Jared?”

“God, yes! Sticky and stinking with sweat but I feel really good.”

“That’s the blood we gave you. It’s one of the reasons why there’s such a huge black market in V.”

Jared frowned, he’d read about V. “I won’t become addicted will I?”

“No, we’ve taken enough blood from you that pretty soon the blood we gave you will start moving through your system, helping your body to replace the human blood you’ve lost. You might feel a little tired tomorrow but that’s all.

“I have a couple of phone calls to make, need to check in with Sam make sure all hell hasn’t broken loose just because Jensen and I are having a night off. Why don’t you two go shower,” he smiled at Jensen. “Maybe use up some more of Jared’s energy so he can sleep? Where do you keep your linens, Jared?”

“Hey, no, I can do that. You shouldn’t have to.”

“I’ll be so much faster, trust me.”

Jensen took Jared’s hand, leading him to the bathroom, Jeff already on the phone to Sam, his voice drifting low and soft. He’d never expected Jeff to give him this, let him share the boy’s attentions, share blood with him and all that entailed. He could already feel Jared through the bond, still excited, body buzzing with energy from the blood they’d both given him.

“You’re wide awake,” Jensen told him. “You need tiring out, any suggestions how we can do that?” He asked, eyebrow raised in question.

“Well you haven’t fucked me yet.”

“That’s true.” He pushed Jared against the cold marble of the bathroom counter. “Is that what you want Jared, me to fuck you?” He leaned in for a kiss, loving Jared’s confidence as he took the kiss over, hands on his face, expression so intense.

“Mmmh. Maybe I should let you fuck  _me_.” He told him as he broke the kiss. “Would you like that, Jared?”

“Yeah, god,  _yeah_ , but not tonight, I want you, please?”

“Love how nicely you ask.” Jensen grinned, kissing him again, keeping it soft, light. It wouldn’t be dawn for a while; Jeff had left him with plenty of time, enough to take it slowly. “Shower,” he told him. “Come on, stinky.”

Washing Jared beneath the pounding spray of the shower felt good, running his hands over every part of that beautiful, blood warm, body. Jared had filled out a lot over the past weeks and his body was becoming beautifully defined with muscle. Washing someone was such an intimate act and Jensen had always enjoyed it, had used it to calm many humans he had fed from over the years, learning their bodies, letting them learn his. He washed Jared clinically, getting him clean, hair and body free of sweat, come and those flecks of blood so small they couldn’t be seen, but Jensen washed them away, Jared silent and malleable beneath his touch.

He felt the boy’s heart start to race as he washed his cock, moving down to his sac, loving the weight of his balls in his hand, drawn up tight against Jared’s groin.

“Talk to me,” Jared asked him.

Jensen turned him around. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“Does this change anything?”

He added more shower gel to the cloth and he began to work it over Jared’s shoulders, confused by the question.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s just that I-I like being around you, being here and I’ve been doing some good work.” He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at Jensen. “Is it over?”

“Over?” Jensen shook his head. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“No reason,” He sighed. “I’m just being dumb, I guess.”

“ _No_ , Jared,” Jensen turned him around and the boy dropped his eyes. “Hey, look at me. Tell me what’s wrong. Did we scare you, hurt you?”

“No, god,  _no_ , nothing like that,” He brushed the wet hair back out of his eyes.

“What then? Come on, Jared, talk to me.”

“It’s just that everything’s so good and...” He shook his head. “It’s dumb, it’s just... Every time things are good and I think things are okay...”

“They don’t work out?” Jensen asked him, and Jared shook his head. “I can’t promise you that life will be perfect,” he said honestly. “I’ve lived too long to make promises like that, but Jeff and I, we’ve taken blood from you and we’ve given you ours. For vampires that’s a huge thing. I’ll know now, when you’re happy, when you’re sad and for a little while you’ll know things too, you’ll probably be able to feel when Jeff and I wake up, you might feel it if we get really angry. What we did tonight binds us to you, it...” He looked for a way to explain it. “It makes us family, if you like. Other vampires will know that you’re bound to us and they’ll respect that.” They’d be unwise if they didn’t.

“Family,  _really_?”

Jensen grinned. “Incestuous family.” He pulled him in for a long, slow kiss.

They made love beneath the shower, Jensen kept the pace slow, the touches soft and sensuous, the kisses long and deep until Jared came, hard.

All that extra energy, fuelled by the blood they’d given him, had left him and he was spent, heavy eyed and tired as Jensen dried him off with a soft towel.

Jeff had changed the soiled bed and found pajama pants for Jared to pull on while Jensen dried himself off and put his clothes back on.

“In you get,” he told him, pulling back the comforter.

“'Mnot a kid.”

“You are to me. No arguments, come on, Jared. I know you’re tired.”

“Yeah.” He slid obediently into bed. “Glad we missed the ballet.”

“Me too,” He smiled, coming to sit on the bed beside him. “Though Swan Lake’s a classic you know. I must have seen it a hundred times.”

Jared laughed. “That’s kinda weird.”

“You could be right.” He stroked a hand over Jared’s hair. “Before our plans changed tonight I had a surprise for you. Well, something I wanted to run by you. I was thinking that it might be good if you put together a small, invitation only, exhibition that we can have at J.D Morgan. You have some beautiful work already, Jared, and I think it would be a good idea to exhibit it to a few chosen guests; a few collectors I know and an agent I’d very much like to represent you. You could invite some of your friends along.”

“Some of my stuff’s been exhibited before,” Jared told him. “There wasn’t much interest.”

“That’s because you didn’t have a good agent and you definitely didn’t have me.” He smiled. “Tell you what, you have a couple of really nice new pieces that you’ve done and maybe, not tomorrow because I have a meeting with the mayor, but the night after, which is Saturday, you and I could go through your work and pick out some others, work through some ideas.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Jeff nodded. “If you want to. I promise I’ll make the exhibition as stress free as possible.”

“That means he’ll let Sam make all the arrangements,” Jensen told him, walking back into the bedroom as he slipped on his jacket.

Jeff grinned. “He knows me too well. Think about it Jared, we’ll talk about it on Saturday night, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now you need to sleep. You’ll be tired tomorrow and I guarantee you’re going to ache in places you’ve never ached before once the effects of the blood wear off, so just take it easy.” He leaned in and kissed him.

“See you soon.”

“And I’ll drop by tomorrow,” Jensen told him. “Sleep now.”

  


“Hey sleepy!” Sandy greeted Jared as he padded over to the kitchen. “I was just about to send a search party in for you when I heard the shower. “Hangover?”

“No, just...” He yawned for what felt like the hundredth time since he struggled, achingly out of bed. “Really tired.”

“And now I see why,” Sandy grinned. “Someone had a good time last night.”

Jared frowned, not understanding. “What?”

“You really are tired aren’t you?” She laughed. “That’s one hell of a hickey, Jared.” She reached over the counter and tugged at the neck of his t-shirt.

The bite. Jared hadn’t even thought to look in a mirror, he’d barely managed to keep his eyes open when he was brushing his teeth, plus his body ached so much he hadn’t noticed the bite on his neck. He rubbed his fingers over the wounds now though. The punctures weren’t sore, not really, but they were incredibly sensitive.

“They heal really quickly, they’ll probably be gone in a couple of days, So are you going to tell me who it was or leave me in suspense? Come on, Jeff or Jensen?”

“Both.” He lowered himself onto one of the stools at the counter and then wished he hadn’t. His body ached like a bitch and the expression ‘pain in the ass’ had taken on a whole new meaning for Jared since he woke up.

“Both!” Sandy stared at him. “They both fed from you?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah.”

“Wow! Vampires don’t usually share, that’s unusual and I’m thinking pretty fantastic?” She made it a question as she poured him a cup of coffee.

“Fantastic’s a good word,” he agreed, remembering last night and not hiding his smile. “I’m pretty tired now though.”

“Then why don’t you go and curl up on the couch for a while with that coffee and I’ll make you some breakfast. Pancakes?” she asked him.

“With bacon?”

“We can do that and a nice big glass of orange. I’ve got some iron tablets and vitamin B12 in my bag and I’ll pick you up some of your own.”

“Vitamins?”

“And iron,” Sandy repeated. “Your blood needs a bit of a boost, vitamins and iron do the trick. Now go on, go slump on the couch.”

Sandy made him a huge breakfast and he surprised himself by getting through it and downing two glasses of fresh orange and taking the vitamin tablets she gave him. He pretty much crashed after that though. He was thinking about watching the new Clash of the Titans movie Sandy had brought ‘round. He remembered seeing the old version with Harry Hamlin and that clockwork owl thing, but watching it hadn’t got much past the thinking about moving stage before he dozed off.

“ _Coff-feee_.”

Jared stirred at the word and the smell as a cup of coffee was wafted under his nose where he sprawled, belly down on the couch. He lifted his head up from a drool slick arm and looked up to see who was torturing him.

“Chad?” He sighed and yawned. “What time is it?”

“Around three,” He told him, putting the drink down on the coffee table for him.

“Shit. Has Sandy gone?”

“Couple of hours ago, man, she buzzed me in as she was leaving, said not to wake you but I’ve watched ‘Clash of the Titans’, dude, and now I’m bored.”

Jared licked at his lips, tongue thick and sleep-slow in his mouth. “I was just gonna watch that.”

“So, how come you’re up here sleeping and not downstairs working? You sick again?” Chad asked him. They were friends again. Chad didn’t have any memory of coming to his dinner party. Jared didn’t see him for three days afterwards and when he did Chad’s face was bruised all to hell, the bruises still hadn’t faded.

“I’m just tired.”

“Wait a minute weren’t you supposed to be going to the fucking ballet or something’ last night?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t get there. Jeff had a video conference thing with one of the other vampire kings that went on forever, so...”

“What the fuck are you talking about Jay-bird?”

“Shut up, I just need to wake up.” Jared started to sit up. He’d forgotten about his aching body until he moved. “Oh shit!”

“Yeah.” Chad’s voice hardened suddenly. “Oh shit is fuckin’ right. Wanna tell me what that is?”

Jared was confused. “What what is, man?”

“Those marks on your  _fuckin_ ’ neck. You’re lettin’ those bloodsuckers feed from you, aren’t you? You  _stupid_  bastard!”

Jared frowned at Chad, running his fingertips over the bite marks. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you were okay with vampires.”

“Was it that fuck with the DB9, that Jensen?” Chad shook his head, his face angry, upset in a way Jared had never seen before. “Look at you, you can barely move. You let him fuck you too, didn’t you?”

“Chad, stop it, man, please. I don’t like this.”

“You don’t like it! What about me? Is this what I saved your ass for, why I took care of you? You were the one fuckin’ decent thing in this shitty life and I tried to take care of you, Jay. I really did. All this art shit, this place, the fancy doctor, I should have fucking known!” He got to his feet and began pacing the room. “Is this new or has he been fucking you and feeding off you for a while?”

“That’s none of your damn business!” Jared snapped, having had enough of the rant. “I do what I want to do with whoever I choose.”

“Yeah, like you had some fucking choice!”

“They didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want!” Jared told him, getting to his feet.

“They? Who the fuck are  _they_ , Jared. How many of those bastards did you let fuck you, huh?” He reached out, made a grab for Jared’s t-shirt. “How many more bites are you hiding under your fucking clothes, you gonna show me?”

“Get the hell  _off_  me!” Jared pushed him, hard. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“ _I_  took care of you, me. We were doin’ good, I was keepin’ you safe!” He yelled, tears standing out in his eyes.

Jared sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Chad. You can’t even keep yourself safe, man,” he said quietly. “I love you, I really do,” Jared told him. “And I don’t know whether you’re high or depressed or what the hell, but you need to leave and you need to get over whatever the hell this is. No one is making my decisions for me, not Jensen or Jeff or you. And if you can’t accept that then we can’t be friends anymore, man. I’m sorry.”

“You have to listen to me, Jay-bird...”

“No,” Jared told him. “No, I don’t and you need to go, dry out, cool off or whatever. Now leave.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ do this!”

“Get out.” 

Chad glared at him before turning on his heel and walking out of the apartment.

Jared listened to him leave from the top of the stairs, waiting for a while before going down and checking the door was locked.

“Jared?” Jensen made his way through the darkened loft apartment to find Jared sat on one of the huge window ledges, looking out at the heavy rain, the side of his face pressed up against the glass. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” he asked him, coming to stand beside him. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” As he turned to face Jensen he could see the moisture in his eyes, the redness that made it clear that he’d been crying, probably for quite a while. “I’m not okay. I need to ask you something and I want an honest answer, not a lie, not something you think I want to hear.”

“I won’t lie to you.” Jensen told him.

“You and Jeff, the whole patronage deal, is it real?”

“Of course, why would you think it wasn’t?”

“So, this isn’t about feeding from me or fucking me?”

Jensen shook his head. “Jared. You’re living in two lofts worth... I don’t know how many million each. You have the King of the most densely vampire populated city and state in the whole of the United States, a vampire who is more than two and a half thousand years old raving about your work, tracking you down and offering you his help and his patronage. Do you really think he’s doing this because he can’t get a human date?” He sighed. “Jared, there is no shortage of fang bangers out there who are more than willing to be fed from and fucked, they don’t take any looking for, they certainly don’t require any degree of courting.”

A small smile tugged up the corners of Jared’s mouth. “ _Courting_?”

“I’m old,” he admitted. “Sue me.”

“How old?”

“Over eight hundred.” He met Jared’s eyes. “Now, I’ve answered your questions, why don’t you answer one of mine. What brought all this on?”

“I had this big fight, with Chad. He said some things,” Jared pressed the side of his face back up against the window pane.

“He saw the bite marks,” Jensen guessed.

“Yeah and he flipped out. It just doesn’t make sense to me, I mean he’s always going on about that Nan Flanagan woman, saying he’d let her bite him any time and he supports... Well, I thought he supported vampire rights and equality. The things he said today though...”

Jensen pushed down his anger, knowing how much Jared thought of his friend. “Do you think he was on anything?”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure.”

“And he said that all of this was about us feeding from you, fucking you?”

“He said he’d tried to take care of me, protect me and I’d let him down. He did you know,” Jared turned and met his eyes. “I was so green when I first came to New York; I had all these bags, every bit of money I possessed in my pockets, looking for a place to stay. It was like having a giant bull’s-eyes painted on me I guess. A couple of guys offered to help me out, said they knew this good place, cheap. Took me into this alley and beat the crap out of me, took my money, anything they thought they could sell. Chad found me and he’s tried to take care of me ever since.”

“He obviously cares about you. Have you thought that perhaps he might love you?”

“He’s not into guys. I mean, I know what he does, but...”

“Sex and love aren’t the same thing.”

“I told him to leave,” Jared said quietly. “Told him to sort himself out, told him he had to respect the decisions I make.”

“That’s reasonable.” It was brave thing for Jared to do; he wasn’t self-confidant at the best of times.

“And I told him not to come back if he couldn’t do that.” Jared, scrubbed at his face with his hand. “I said that to him.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yeah I did, I do,” Jared told him. “But what if he doesn’t?”

“Human or vampire, nothing’s constant, things change.”

“Vampires don’t.”

Jensen laughed. “Oh, but we do. We have to, those who can’t end up taking a walk into the sunlight. I’m not the man I was before I was made.” 

“What were you like when you were human?”

Jensen stared out at the rain. “I was a devoted son, a good soldier who served my father and my king in defence of our lands and I was a devout man, respected, even if I wasn’t particularly well liked.”

Jared frowned. “Why wouldn’t people like you?”

“I guess you’d say I had a bit of a stick up my ass. I didn’t have much of a sense of humor, I didn’t know how to make friends, how to have fun. I served my family, my king and my god and I didn’t have much time or patience with anything else.”

“So what made you change?”

“A knight. His name was Philippe and he came to serve my father. I think I was in love with him from the first moment I saw him and that love, if it really was love, grew until he was the only thing I could think of.”

“Was he in love with you too?”

Jensen laughed. “No. I can’t say that he didn’t know I existed but the man barely knew me and I barely knew him. We weren’t friends. In fact he probably thought I was an idiot. I was so obsessed with him that I could barely string two words together in his presence, I couldn’t even look at him.” Jensen slipped off his shoes and sat opposite Jared on the window ledge.

“So tell me what happened,” Jared kicked him lightly with his socked foot.

“My father decided to arrange a marriage for me and when I found out I went to see our priest Father Guillaume and I confessed my love for another man. The priest decided that the best course of action would be for me to bare my soul to my father. Philippe was older than me, worldlier, and in my father’s opinion this put him at fault, so he was put to death.”

“But he didn’t do anything!” Jared frowned. “How could your father do that?”

“He did what he believed to be right. These were superstitious times and I was his only son. He wanted to blame someone for what I’d become.”

“But you hadn’t become anything, you hadn’t even done anything. It was just a crush.”

“That’s not what he believed; it’s not what I believed. I was devout, Jared, I saw myself as a sinner. I prayed every day for forgiveness, and I knew that I was responsible for Philippe’s death.” Jensen sighed. “In a way I was lucky, my father loved me enough that he couldn’t kill me. He disowned me instead, took away my name and my titles. He said that I had one chance of redemption and that was to serve as a soldier for God. He gave me my horse, my armour, weapons and enough money to pay my passage to the Holy Land, to Jerusalem. He believed, as I did, that if you made that journey your sins would be forgiven and when you died you’d be granted entry into the Kingdom of Heaven.”

“But it didn’t work out that way?”

“No,” Jensen stretched out his legs to overlap Jared’s. “But everything about my life changed. It just happens, you can’t control things, you just have to adapt.”

“Even when you don’t want to?” Jared lost a little of his animation.

“You’ll just have to see how it goes. Like I was saying last night, there’s no guarantee that life will be perfect, you just have to make the best you can of it.”

Jared nodded slowly. “Do you have to go or can you stay?”

“I can stay for a while. Do you want to go to bed?”

Jensen saw his eyes widen. “I don’t think I could...”

He smiled. “Just to lie down, I know you’re still tired, you’ll feel better if you rest. I’ll stay with you until you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Jared nodded, hopping down from the window ledge, Jensen following him. “Did you make it to Jerusalem?” 

“Yes, I did,” He slipped an arm around Jared’s waist guiding him towards the bedroom. “With Father Guillaume as my reluctant company.” 

Jared undressed, sliding into bed quickly and Jensen kicked off his shoes, making himself comfortable on top of the quilt.

“This okay?”

Jared nodded. “Will you talk to me for a while? It’ll help me fall asleep.”

Jensen raised a brow. “Am I that boring?”

“No, I just... It helps me relax.”

“Okay then,” he folded his arms under his head, making himself comfortable. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You told me that Jeff was your maker. Before that you said that Jeff had saved your life and you were his slave.”

“That’s right.”

“How did it happen? I mean, how did you go from being Jeff’s slave to him making you a vampire. Were you in love with him right away?”

Jensen laughed. “I didn’t love him, I thought he was, I don’t know, an ungodly thing; a demon. I’d been badly wounded during the siege of Jerusalem, I was dying and Jeff fed me some of his blood, saved my life. He took me from Salah Ad-dins jail cells beneath Jerusalem as part of a tribute the Sultan paid to him. ”

“What about the priest you were travelling with?”

“Father Guilliame? Jeff told me later that he’d killed him, snapped his neck. I don’t remember that, I was pretty out of it at the time. Jeff had discovered that he’d been scourging me, even when I was wounded. It didn’t sit too well with him.”

“Scourging?” Jared’s brows drew together in a frown. “You mean he whipped you, while you were hurt?”

“He claimed he was beating the devil out of me, and I was too far gone and to be honest I was too much of a believer, to put up any resistance.” 

“Where did Jeff take you?”

“We travelled into the desert.” Jensen sighed, he could still recall that journey vividly, even after so many years. “He was known as Lord Dion back then; he had a small, well trained army.”

“Was he part of the crusade?”

Jensen shook his head. “No, he hated wars, tired of them - he’d fought in too many. Not that fighting was something you could easily avoid back then.” 

Jared seemed to think about that for a while. “Why the different name, why was he Lord Dion?”

“Vampire’s have to live in the human world. In the past had to blend in without people really noticing us. The same person can’t own property or land for countless years without it looking suspicious so it paid to change identities once in a while.”

“So back then your name wasn’t Jensen?”

He laughed. “No, I didn’t have a name. My father had stripped me of my identity, it was something we took seriously in those days. Jeff gave me the name, Jamil.” 

“Jamil,” Jared repeated. “I like it, does it have a meaning?”

He nodded, still self-conscious about it even now. “It’s an Arabic name, it means beautiful.”

Jared gave him a smile. “He wasn’t wrong there. It’s hard to imagine that you looked the same back then as you do now.”

“I looked a few years younger, my hair was long back then, almost everyone’s was, down to my shoulders.” 

“What year was that?” Jared asked him. “I was never much good at history.”

“1187,” he remembered.

 _Jamil, as everyone now called him, sat at the wide opening of the tent, soaking up the last of the desert’s late afternoon heat, his fingers toying with the shackle fastened around his ankle. The camp would eat soon, the food served before the sun set so that their goum of tents would be ready to move on as night fell._

 _It had been some twenty days since he had been taken from Jerusalem, travelling only by night. By day, the Lord and more than half his men disappeared while the camp slept through the worst of the baking heat. The remaining men took turns guarding the other prisoners._   
  
_  
Jamil recognised some of the prisoners as common soldiers who had fought to defend Jerusalem from the armies of Salah Ad-din as bravely as any knight. They didn’t deserve the fate of slaves, didn’t deserve whatever fate it was that seemed to make them so fearful as sunset neared._

 _He didn’t know what it was they were afraid of; he was kept separated from the other slaves, but he heard their cries, screams sometimes. He saw them during the nights march; frightened men, shackled together, barely able to look at the Lord or his men._   
  
__

_He fought hard to hide his own fear but he couldn’t help wondering what his fate was going to be. He was a slave, and if rumour was true, his master was a demon, not a man. He had been treated well since he’d arrived here. What had happened to him in the cells beneath Jerusalem had seemed like a dream. He remembered the drops of the Lords blood that had dripped from his wrist, remembered that he had swallowed them obediently, wanting to live and not die in that rat infested catacomb. He’d regained consciousness in this fine tent, clean and dressed in Saracen robes. His leg had been all but healed, the gaping wound gone, replaced by tender pink flesh that was strangely sensitive to touch._   
  
__

_The manacle that was locked around his ankle, its long chain attached to the tent’s supports reminded him of the condition of his salvation; he was a slave now, the property of the man--if in fact he was a man--who had given him back his life._

 _He had not seen the lord, Dion as he was called, until nightfall on the day he had woken up a slave. The Lord had asked him how he fared before asking to see the wound for himself. Seeming satisfied with what he saw he had released the chain from the tent support and led him out into the night. He had rode on a horse that first night, Lord Dion leading the animal from his own mount. The following night, and every one since, he had walked beside the Lord’s horse. Sometimes the lord would speak to him, ask how he was, if he had slept well, but there was little beyond that, if you discounted the feel of those dark eyes, which never seemed to leave him._

 _They had been long these twenty days, long and strangely lonely, one day slipping into the next. The men who guarded him during the day were decent enough to him, only a few of them spoke the Frankish tongue and though less than half of them were Saracen he didn’t recognise the languages spoken by the others. Those that he could understand didn’t make conversation with him unless they had to. They chained him, fed him, took him to empty his bowels and his bladder whenever he asked. There was always one of them set to guard him though and they did so diligently, he would have had no chance of escaping if he had decided not to honour the agreement he had made with the lord. He assumed that when they reached their destination things would change for him, that he like the other prisoners who survived their journey, would be sold. He didn’t relish that thought and he had decided that when that happened he would try to escape any new master. He was stronger now, his captors fed him well, which was unexpected, and even his nightly trek through the desert, though exhausting, seemed to have somehow helped him to recover his strength._

 _Today was the first time his routine had been different. Last night, just before dawn, the goum had arrived at this small, fertile oasis and made camp. On waking he’d been supplied with water and ordered to strip off his robe and wash. The new robe he’d been given was of finer quality than the last, soft against his skin. Perhaps they neared their destination, it would explain the washing and the new robe if the plan was to sell him soon. He knew that Christian slaves could fetch a high price in the slave markets. No doubt he would be told when Lord Dion returned from wherever he and the rest of his men spent their days._   
  
__

_The food, when it came, was even better than usual. The spiced coffee that Jamil had come to love was plentiful, there was harees; a wheat porridge with mutton, and curdled buttermilk to eat with the dates that had been picked from the palms scattered around the oasis. He sat and ate slowly, surprised when the sun set and darkness came without them breaking camp. Instead fires were lit all around as the sky slowly filled with stars. One of his captors lit lamps inside the tent as darkness fell and so he moved inside, nights were cold in the desert, the temperature dropping quickly._

 _“Do you dislike the night?”_   
  
__

_He had barely sat on his sleeping pallet; a nest of furs and blankets and the voice startled him. He looked up to see Lord Dion standing beside him, he hadn’t heard the man enter the tent at all._

 _“My Lord?”_   
  
__

_“The night is beautiful,” The man had a soft, deep voice with a trace of an accent he couldn’t place. “Why do you move inside?”_

 _“The desert cools quickly once the sun sets, it can get a little cold,” He admitted._

 _“Have you been cold during our nightly journey?”_

 _“No, my Lord, the walking each night keeps me warm. Are we not continuing our journey tonight?” He asked, made bold by his captor’s unexpected questions._

 _“Not tonight.” The lord pointed at the new robe he was wearing. “I would see how well you have healed during these last days, stand up, take off your robe.”_

 _He didn’t move. “My leg is strong now, you have seen that I can walk, keep up the pace when we travel.”_

 _The lord, Dion, nodded. “I have seen and now I wish to see how well your wound looks, so I ask that you take off your robe and I remind you that in return for your life it was agreed between us that you belonged to me. I wish to inspect what is mine.”_

 _He had agreed but that didn’t make it any easier to stand up and it didn’t make his hands stop trembling as he hesitantly removed the robe he had been given and stood before his master naked, his face flushed with heat, unable to meet the older lord’s eyes. He held still as the man moved closer, crouching to look at his leg. The touch of his hand over the site of his wound was shocking and he blushed deeper when he felt the stirring of his cock._

 _To his relief the touch didn’t last long. The lord stood then, moving behind him, and one hand came to rest on his shoulder while the other smoothed its way slowly down his back before coming to rest lightly on the curve of his buttocks._

 _“You’ve healed well, there’s barely a mark on your flesh from the wound you received in battle and no trace at all of the scourging.” The hand moved a little to sit at his hip, the other hand leaving his shoulder and moving to rest over his belly. “Tell me of the nature of this sin of yours, what would cause a man to forsake his home and journey to Jerusalem? What would make a warrior knight accept scourging from a snivelling cleric? I wish to know.”_

 _“That is between myself, my priest and my god.”_

 _“Your priest has gone to meet his maker, and your god, apparently, has forsaken you. I, on the other hand, own you and would know the nature of my property. Tell me, Jamil, what was it that you craved that was contrary to your nature?”_

 _The hand that was resting on his belly began to stroke him in smooth circular motions._

 _“I-I cannot...”_

 _“Tell me,” the lord whispered, his mouth uncomfortably close to his ear. “I could compel you to do so, I will if I have to.”_

 _“My father wished to arrange a marriage for me, but I-I lov... I desired another.”_

 _“Not an uncommon situation, unless...” That hand never stopped its slow caress and he found himself pushing back into the body of the man whose voice whispered so close to his ear. “Who did you desire?”_

 _“It brought shame upon my family, shame they could not forgive.”_

 _“Tell me.”_

 _“A fellow knight, a man.” He confessed, trying to pull away from Lord Dion but finding the older man’s grip on him unbreakable. “I could think of no one else. I confessed my sin to Father Guillaume and he convinced me to tell my father.” The result of that had been even worse than he had imagined but he’d been naive to expect anything else. “He had no choice but to disinherit me but he-he gave me funds, arms and horse to join the Holy Crusade, to defend Jerusalem in the hope that my sins would be forgiven. He even ordered that Father Guillaume accompany me.”_

 _“This Father Guillaume is the priest who attended you after you were wounded, who scourged you?”_

 _“He tried to beat the devil from me, prayed for me.”_

 _“You are mine now, you belong to no one else.”_

 _“Will I be sold?”_

 _“Sold?”_

 _“On the slave block?”_

 _The Lord chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to travel straight to Jamil’s cock, adding to his embarrassment. “You would fetch a pretty penny in Constantinople, their mouths would water when they saw you and that is the truth. You would be stripped naked, as you are now, upon the block, so many hands would be upon you, feeling you, touching you, nothing hidden, nothing sacred. Can you feel them, Jamil?” The lord’s hands moved over his body, touching him, stroking, nipping at his flesh._

 _He jerked as a large calloused hand wrapped around his now fully erect cock and began to stroke, slowly._

 _“Please, please don’t. I...”_

 _“Did he touch you, this knight whose affection you craved? Did you touch him?”_

 _“No, no, he didn’t know. The shame was mine, just mine. Please don’t, stop this.”_

 _“Stop what? Giving you pleasure instead of pain.”_

 _“It is wrong, god forbids...”_

 _“God has forsaken you, according to the priest. You belong to me now. Do you deny that I have the right to do as I wish with you?”_

 _“I do not deny it. I belong to you but...”_

 _“Then I order that you submit to my will.”_

 _“A-as you desire,” he conceded._

 _“Get down on your hands and knees for me, legs spread wide.”_

 _He didn’t move, couldn’t, he knew what this meant and it was wrong, so very wrong and yet he’d given himself over to this man, he belonged to him._

 _“Are you afraid?”_

 _“No!” It was a lie, he felt a fear unlike anything he’d felt on the battlefield. This fate, this debasement, this was god testing him, or perhaps this was god’s way of punishing him._

 _“I think you’re afraid, afraid of yourself,” that rich, smooth voice crooned the words into the shell of his ear. “You’ve denied yourself everything your body desires because some snivelling cleric has convinced you that this is what your god wishes.”_

 _“Father Guillaume was a good man.”_

 _“Was he? Are you certain of that?” The lord didn’t wait for a reply. “I always thought that this Christian god made man in his own image, that he forgave all sin. I know that you crusaders come here with the promise of your god’s forgiveness, yet your priest insisted that you cannot be forgiven. Is the sin of desire so great? What makes you so much worse than a murderer or an adulterer?”_

 _“I-I...” He couldn’t think, not with that voice in his ear, with the continual touch of those hands upon his body._

 _“I think it was Father Guillaume who could not forgive you, who went against your god and the commands of your church. From all accounts you fought bravely at Jerusalem and you were gravely wounded, yet your priest still saw fit to beat you.” Fingers ran slowly over and down his back, tracing lines where the whip had once bitten into his flesh. “Don’t be afraid. Submit to me of your own free will; let me teach you about yourself. Let me show you things beyond your imagining.”_

 _“What will you teach me?”_

 _“I’ll teach you who you are and what you can be.”_

 _“And what are you?” He wanted to know._

 _“Your master, teacher, lover and more that I will reveal to you when I think you’re ready.”_

 _“And what if I am never ready?”_

 _“Then the uncertainty about your eventual fate will be at an end. I will never place you on the block to be the property of another.” The lord’s tongue swept over the outer shell of his ear sending a shiver of apprehension through his body. “Will you submit to me now, Christian, or will I be forced to take what is mine?”_

 _“I...” He hesitated for a moment and then nodded, slowly, defeated. “I will do what you ask of me.”_

 _“Good, then we’ll take your first lesson slowly.” The lord’s hands fell away from his body and he felt oddly bereft of that intimate touch._

 _Instead he was led by the elbow over to his sleeping pallet and guided to lie down, the lord sitting over him. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and the lord smiled as though he could hear it._

 _“There’s nothing to be afraid of, the only thing I want you to feel is pleasure.” The lord reached inside his robe and took out a small pot. When it was opened a scent of a rich, eastern oil reached him and he watched as the lord put a little in his hands, rubbing them together._

 _Lord Dion took his time rubbing the oil slowly into his body, starting with his arms and shoulders before moving slowly down to his chest. It was an experience more intimate than anything he had known before and he had to look away, couldn’t face the dark, knowing eyes that seemed to be able to see into his very soul. The touch was pleasant, relaxing after a while, though each time those hands moved further down his body he found himself tensing up once more, teeth worrying his bottom lip in an effort to hold back the sounds of pleasure he so wanted to make. His cock betrayed him, growing hard and aching in embarrassingly little time, another reason he couldn’t face Lord Dion._

 _He let out a startled shout when that soothing touch suddenly became so much more intimate, bucking his hips, legs thrashing, in an effort to move away._

 _“Still, Jamil, be still for me, hmmh? I’m not going to hurt you.” A grip like iron suddenly caught hold of his ankle, stopping his struggles. “Look at me,” the lord urged him. When he did as he was told his ankle was released. “You agreed to do as I asked of you, are you breaking your word to me now?”_

 _He shook his head. “N-no I... I will do as you ask of me. I just...”_   
  
__

_“Still,” the lord said softly. “Let me teach you.”_

 _Fingers brushed over his inner thighs, soothing, gentle, taking their time.” He turned away from the lord again, afraid his face would reveal his feelings. His breathing was harsh, heart beating wildly in his chest as those careful fingers moved closer their touch more intimate, stroking over his sac, his cock. It was only when a finger, slick with oil, brushed against the entrance to his body that he cried out, the sound constricted and needy, and tried to move away. Then that finger moved inside him and he was lost._

 _“Please!” It was shocking feeling his body being invaded in such a way. He wanted it to stop._   
  
__

_At least he did at first. As promised there was no real pain, it just felt so strange, so incredibly intimate and full, but the fullness eased and that same searching finger touched something deep inside him._

 _“Please,” he begged again. “Don’t stop.”_

“He raped you!” Jared frowned. “How could he do that to you, he..?”

“No,” he cut him off. “Not rape. If he’d wanted that he could simply have put me in thrall and done anything he wanted to me. He gave me what I wanted, what I could never have asked for back then. It’s hard to explain,” he admitted. “Jeff was already over a thousand years old and I was transparent to him. He could read my body language, my expressions...” He sighed. 

“You didn’t know he was a vampire?”

“Not at first,” Jensen rolled over to face Jared, stroking his fingers through his long hair before leaning down to kiss him. “Like I said, I didn’t really know what he was,” he told him as he broke the kiss. “I knew he wasn’t a man.”

“Did Jeff tell you what he was?”

“Circumstances forced the issue.”

“What circumstances?” Jared asked him, eagerly. “What happened?”

 _“Jamil.” There was a strange urgency to the voice that called out that name. Part of him knew that he should wake up, answer to that name but another part was too tired after last night’s extended walk through the desert. All he wanted was to sleep, to rest. It wasn’t his name, not really._

 _“Jamil! You must wake up!” He pushed his way up from sleep to find one of Lord Dion’s men crouched beside him, shaking his shoulder. The man looked frantic._

 _“What? What is it?” As he fully awoke he could hear noise outside of camp, the sound of fighting unmistakable. “What’s happening?” He asked, getting quickly to his feet._

 _“Saracen raiders, slavers, they surprised us. We have to get you out of here, they’ll take everyone.” The man bent and unlocked the shackle from the tent post._

 _“Where is Lord Dion?”_

 _“The sun has not yet set,” the man told him. “There are too many of them, I don’t know that we can hold them off long enough for him to get here.”_

 _“Release me from this chain and give me a sword then, let me help fight them.”_

 _The man gave him an incredulous look. “The lord would never allow it.”_

 _“Why? It’s not as though I can run away, where would I go?”_

 _The man shook his head, gathering the length of Jamil’s chain in his hand. “No, we must get you away from here; hide you, until the lord comes. We need to hurry!”_

 _They were barely at the opening to the tent when two warriors stepped inside; dark, turbaned, competent looking men, both armed with drawn scimitars. The smaller of the two men, with a short neatly trimmed beard, held the curved, already blooded, sword like an extension of his own arm, dropping immediately into a fighting stance._

 _Jamil’s gaoler came to stand in front of him, dropping the chain and drawing his sword, his intent clear, but then so was his nervousness. He spoke to the men in their own tongue, the words clearly heated and threatening on both sides. He ignored the gestures the Saracens were making in his direction, looking around for something he could use as a weapon._

 _There were no more words and the fight was joined suddenly in a flurry of clashing swords. Jamil picked up the nearest thing , the clay pot that held what was left of his water and flung it at the smaller of the two Saracens, catching him on the side of the head, the man letting out a shout of rage and turning towards him as the taller of the two warriors moved in on Jamil’s defender. He picked up the small, beaten copper table next, not throwing it, but holding it like a shield, defending himself from the blows of his attacker. He was hampered by being backed into the corner and by the chain around his ankle, even though his defender had dropped it the moment he started to fight. There was a cry from his left and he felt the spray of warm liquid across his face, knew the man defending him was dead before he even chanced a glance in his direction._

 _Jamil took a risk, throwing the table hard at the man he’d been fighting then making a lunge for the sword of his dead defender, where it lay on the floor. He scooped it up neatly in his hand, rolling to his feet and striking fast, the blow taking the taller of the two Saracens across the hip. He pressed his sudden advantage, moving behind the larger man in the close confines of the tent, to shield himself from the other and then striking another fast blow with all his strength that cleaved down through the man’s shoulder almost taking his head. He had barely taken up the fallen man’s scimitar in his left hand when his legs were jerked out from under him. The other man had found his chain. He brought the scimitar up to deflect the two handed blow that followed with barely a pause, bringing the other sword up and forward, running his opponent through._

 _He pushed the man’s dead weight off him, thinking he was free when three more men in Saracen robes and turbans rushed in, swords at the ready. He fought with every ounce of skill he had, his body strong once more, fast, the swords coming to life in his hands. He was good at this, had trained for battle since he was a small boy. He lost all sense of himself in the fight, of what he was and why he was fighting, his mind registering nothing other than the next blow, the next parry, gauging his opponent and finding the best method of attack. He didn’t register how many men there were anymore, though he knew more had entered, but even so he could mark the position of every one of them, even in the growing darkness. Part of his brain told him there were too many, but that didn’t matter, didn’t stop him, the fight was all and he would take down as many as he could._

 _The change was sudden when it came. He heard snarls and screams from the edges of the circle of his battle. Even as he fought and killed there were less to oppose him than there should have been and it registered that he had an ally, brought his mind back and suddenly it was reeling._

 _There was blood, so much blood, and Lord Dion in the centre of it, no weapon in his hands but the strength and ferocity of an animal, ripping men apart, fangs gleaming from a bloodied face, a site unlike anything he had ever seen. No opponent of his own left to fight he dropped to his knees in the centre of the carnage, eyes unable to look away from the Lord Dion, his mouth mumbling a prayer for a good death._

 _“Da, quaesumus Dominus, ut in hora mortis nostrae Sacramentis refecti et culpis omnibus expiati, in sinum misericordiae tuae laeti suscipi mereamur. Per Christum Dominum nostrum...”_   
  
__

_The Amen froze in his throat as the lord tossed aside the last of his opponents, the dark, glittering eyes fixed on his._

 _“You don’t need prayers.”_

 _He gripped the hilts of both swords, ready. “What are you?”_

 _“You don’t need the swords either.”_

 _“Tell me what you are,” he asked again._

 _“I’m a vampire.” The voice was so calm, so warm when he spoke that it seemed out of place amidst the carnage all around them._

 _Jamil knew the word, vampire. He had heard them spoken of, heard tales of the undead from pilgrims and more lurid stories from other knights, especially from the Slavs and Magyars._

 _“What do you want from me?”_   
  
__

_The lord’s sharp fangs retracted slowly, but not before his tongue came out to lick the blood off his mouth. Jamil shuddered at the sight._

 _“My intention was to save you, but you seemed to be doing a good job of saving yourself, without my help.” He said, his own eyes scanning the interior of the tent. It took Jamil a while to realize that at least half the bodies there had perished by the sword, by his hand._   
  
__

_“Salah Ad-din told me you were a warrior of great skill and bravery, he spoke truly.”_

 _“Will you kill me now?”_

 _“You’re not thinking,” Dion’s voice was low, patient. “Why would I kill you when I rushed here with the rest of my men to save you?”_

 _“The rest of your men?”_

 _“Those you don’t catch sight of during the day are vampires, as I am. We hide from the sun, dig in deep beneath the desert sands. I felt you through our bond and came here the moment the sun had set.”_

 _The guard who had come to hide him had said something about the sun not having set. “Tell me of this bond you speak of.”_

 _The lord nodded. “It’s called a blood bond, made possible because of the drops I fed you in order to save your life. It means that I can feel you, sense your emotions, even now, which is why I must tell you that you have nothing to fear from me, nothing has changed between us.”_

 _He moved closer, crouching so that he was on the same level._   
  
__

_Jamil raised the swords a fraction, ready to fight, pushing aside his fear of the vampire and ignoring the after battle ache that had seeped into his arms and shoulders._

 _The lord laughed softly. “Are you ready to fight me now, Jamil?”_

 _“Could I kill you?”_

 _In a sudden rush of movement the lord seemed to almost disappear from his sight and then he was crouched behind him, the swords having been torn from his hands and the lords arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms and holding him fast against his body._

 _“I’m difficult to kill,” he said softly, lips close to his ear. “Come, let’s get you out of here, see what’s to be done.”_   
  
__

_He didn’t resist, couldn’t. The vampire’s proximity seemed to rob him of the strength he’d possessed earlier. Most of the dead were in the tent, no more than a half dozen others were scattered through the camp. The remaining ten or more raiders were captured, fated to be slaves themselves. The dead from both sides were taken away as was the bloodied tent and much later that night Jamil saw the fire in the distant dunes._

 _Lord Dion took him to one of the other tents and precious water was brought, all trace of blood cleaned off him by the lord himself and there was food laid out for him while the lord cleaned himself and discarded his own soiled clothes. The man, vampire, had no regard for his nudity and it made Jamil as uncomfortable now as it had weeks ago when the lord first took him to his bed. For his own part he was grateful for the robe he’d been given even though he doubted he’d keep it on for very long. Though they still spent most of their nights travelling through the desert to wherever it was they were going, every few nights they would not break camp and the lord would spend the night with him in his tent._

 _It was time spent in slow exploration, no part of him left without the touch of fingers, lips or tongue and although there were times when such intimacy made him redden in shame he’d come to long for that attention, for the low rumble of that soft voice and the unwavering regard of those dark, liquid eyes. The thought that he longed for the attentions of another man, that he didn’t resist in either deed or word, conflicted with every law of man and church he’d been brought up to believe and he spent hours of every day thinking on it, hating himself, the church and Lord Dion in equal measure._

 _He looked up when a glass of spiced coffee was held in front of his face, taking it from the lord and drinking deeply._   
  
__

_“Are we just food then, the slaves you take?” Jamil asked him. “Is that why I hear the cries of the others at sunset?”_

 _“You speak as though I’ve fed from you. The others serve a purpose, few of them die, a good number are sold, which would have been their fate anyway. Of the strongest; some serve as soldiers through our days, the best of them are made as we are.”_

 _“Do you plan to feed from me?” The words came out strongly but if this bond between them was real then the lord would know he was afraid._

 _Dion nodded, coming to sit beside him on his sleeping pallet. “I think it’s time.”_

 _“And if I don’t want that?” He put down the drink._

 _The vampire sighed. “There is nothing for you to fear, no harm, no pain,” he ran the backs of his fingers slowly over Jamil’s face, the touch making his breath quicken and his manhood stir. “Instead I promise you pleasure. Lay with me, let me touch what I feared I might lose tonight, and let me know you through the blood.”_

 _This isn’t a man he’s giving himself to, it’s a vampire, but deep down he’s always known that the lord was some kind of monster or demon, an ungodly thing._   
  
__

_His acceptance is a brief nod, but Lord Dion shook his head. “I need your words.”_

 _He met the vampire’s eyes. “Yes.”_

 _The word was barely out of his mouth before competent hands were stripping him of his robe and he was being pushed down onto his back, the lord moving over him. There was part of him that didn’t like this position, preferred to be face down away from the scrutiny of those flashing dark eyes that saw so much._

 _That first time he’d been taken he’d tried not to make a sound, to not betray himself, but sounds had slipped out of him, embarrassing noises he’d not known he was capable of. The lord liked to wring sounds out of him, loved to make him cry out in pleasure or beg for what he wanted. As hard as he tried he couldn’t stop himself._

 _He caught the scent of almond oil moments before he felt the vampire’s hands on his body, broad fingers ghosting over his entrance before easing inside, the tight burn soothed and made easier by the oil. The Lord knew where to touch him, where to make the touch light and where the edge of pain felt sweeter, made his cries that much louder. He no longer spilt his seed so readily as he had at first, too overwhelmed to do anything else. He let the ache for release build now; let it grow in him until his body was shaking with the effort it took to control himself, to not surrender to that need until the Lord was buried deep inside him and seeking his own release._   
  
__

_The pleasure the Lord gave him made him forget all else, so the bite when it came was a shock, sharp only for a moment and then he could hear it, the sound of being fed upon and then he felt the pull deep inside him, like nothing he’d ever felt before. He cried out, his body arching in pleasure as he came, the moment seeming almost endless._

 _“So good for me,” the voice rumbled in his ear, the last thing he remembered before sleep pulled him down._

 _He didn’t know how long had passed when he woke again. He was rolled over on his side, and the lord was behind him, hard body close to his. One of those large, sword calloused hands rubbed slowly down his side, moving below his buttock to push up his leg, hand hooking behind his knee to move it close to his chest. He felt the lord’s cock push against the entrance to his body, and despite the soreness from before the steady burn of his breach felt good and made Jamil gasp quietly. The hand that had guided his leg into place wrapped around his cock, stroking him in counterpoint to the slow, lazy strokes inside his body, the sense of fullness, teetering on just the right side of pain. The other arm had snaked beneath him, the fingers pulling and squeezing at his nipple. The tongue that licked a stripe along the length of his throat had him moving his head to allow more access and he heard the lord’s warm chuckle before he felt the touch of those sharp fangs as they rested against his neck, the tongue still moving against his skin as though it was tasting him. He wanted to squirm but the hold on him was too firm, too restrictive of his movements._

 _“Please, my lord.”_

 _“Greedy.” Tongue, lips and teeth skated over his flesh and he found himself trembling in anticipation. “Just a little this time.”_

 _The fangs sank beneath his skin so slowly that he was keening from the sharpness of the pain, hating it and yet not wanting it to end but then the fangs sheathed themselves fully and that first pull of blood sent lightning down to his cock, deepening into his balls and he was crying out, coming over the hand that had continued to stroke him. A second pull of his blood had him shaking like a man possessed._

 _“So beautiful,” Lord Dion told him once the fangs had slipped out again. “Take from me now, just a drop or two.” A finger pushed at his mouth and he parted his lips to let it in, feeling the drip of blood onto his tongue and he swallowed it down. “That’s it. We may have to change your name after today,” the lord told him as the bloodied finger was withdrawn. “Call you Alcaeus.”_

 _The gifted blood caused explosions of fire to erupt behind his eyelids and made his head swim in a way that was entirely pleasurable. “What does that mean?”_

 _“It’s a word from the land of my birth, it means you are strong, strong and beautiful.” He felt a kiss touch softly to his forehead. “Time for you to sleep now and for me to find a place beneath the sand. We’ll leave the desert behind in just a few days.”_

 _“And what will happen then?”_

 _“I’ll teach you all the things I need you to know before you’re ready.”_

 _His eyelids started to droop. “Ready?”_

 _“Sleep,” the voice compelled and he felt consciousness slip slowly away as the dark, with its dreams of pleasure, welcomed him._

  


“So when you left the desert he turned you into a vampire?”

Jensen shook his head. “Jeff never pushed that upon me, it was my decision. We were living on an island in the Aeagean, we’d been together for a while. Life was good there, I felt like I was my own person for the first time in my life. I made my own decisions. I loved Jeff and I decided that I never wanted to leave him.”

“You wanted to be a vampire.”

“I wanted what we had then to last forever. Jeff didn’t want to do it, he wanted to wait but it was the right time for me.”

 _“How long have you been sitting here?” Dion asked Jamil as he came to sit beside him on the smooth rock to look at the dark sea._   
__

_He shrugged. “I don’t know, a long time. I watched the sun go down.” He smiled that familiar smile of his, that creased the corners of his eyes yet made him seem even younger than he was. “I watched it rise too, from the walls of the fortress. I couldn’t sleep.”_

 _He had left Jamil in their bed just before dawn, going down to the vaults in the catacomb to take his own rest through the day._

 _“Have you slept at all?”_

 _He shook his head. “I didn’t want to miss anything.”_

 _“Tell me about the sunrise,” Dion requested. “What was it like?”_

 _“Too fast,” he admitted. “It didn’t take long for the sun to come up, push away the night and just leave the shadows. I watched the colors change, the sea change from black to azure, almost emerald near the shore. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed how blue the sky was before. Do you miss the day, seeing the sun?”_

 _“I used to, but that was when I knew nothing of the dark.” He combed his fingers through the sun streaked, dirty blonde hair, moving it away from Jamil’s face. “Everything has its own unique beauty.” He stared long and hard at his human lover before making a decision. “I can’t deny you the day. You don’t have to do this.”_

 _“Yes I do.” His answer was soft but certain. “I don’t want to leave you. I would happily grow old with you, but you won’t change. So I want to be as I am now, I want us to be together.”_

 _“We could wait for a few years. I want you to be sure, to have no doubts.”_

 _Jamil laughed. “I don’t have any doubts. A year ago you offered me my freedom and the chance to leave. I chose to stay with you, command your men, protect you through the day. I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want to. I’m not the man I was before Jerusalem, for the first time in my life I am free. I don’t serve my father, my king or my god, instead I’m with you and that’s my choice. I’m choosing now to let you take my mortal life and give my back a new life that I can spend with you.”_

 _Dion stared long and hard at his human lover before making a decision. “Tonight then, as we planned.”_

 _“Is this where you were born, this island?” Jamil asked him. “It’s a good place.”_

 _“No,” He almost left it at that but the boy deserved more from him. “I come from a place called Lacedaemon, on the banks of the river Eurotas on the mainland. It’s all but gone now, but once it was a great place, its name lives on, even now.”_

 _“I don’t know that name,” Jamil admitted._

 _“Most know it now as Sparta. We were a proud people who lived for battle, trained for it from being small children.”_

 _His eyes widened. “I know what’s written of Sparta,” he admitted. “Can I ask you something?”_

 _“Of course.”_

 _“Do you remember your own death? You so seldom speak of your mortal life.”_

 _Dion nodded. “It’s not the vampire way to dwell in the past, but I’ll tell you: My people fought a war with the Persians almost five hundred years before the one you call Christ was born.” He remembered._

 _“I know of the three hundred Spartans who fought at the gates of fire,” Jamil told him._

 _He smiled. “Herodotus tells a good tale. Leonidas, my king, would only take from the royal guard those who had a living son, so I was denied my chance to fight with my king at Thermopylae.” He had begged to go, he remembered, but his boy had died that spring and Leonidas was insistent._

 _“I fought in a later battle, as part of the Greek alliance at a place called Plataea. I was captured and taken back to Byzantium by one of the retreating Persian generals named Artabazus.” He still remembered the man, found he couldn’t hate him, couldn’t blame him for all that befell him._

 _“Persian prisoners seldom lived long, even if they survived the journey. As a Spartan I was hated, so many Persians had died beneath the Spartan sword and spear and the Persian invasion was all but defeated, their armies in tatters._

 _“I knew I’d die for their entertainment, I expected it.” He sighed.”The Persians had found what they thought was a monster, a creature that lived only in darkness and they put me in a pit with it to fight without weapons or even my clothes. It was a truly ancient vampire, starving but so strong, so fast. I didn’t stand a chance, one blow from it was enough to kill me but it played with me, let me try to fight it._

 _“When it grew bored with the game it knocked me down, fucked me while it fed on me, then dragged me into the cave where it spent its days. They must have thought me dead, but it kept me in there with it for days as they threw it more victims. It killed them all, drained them, left them in the pit to be cleared away. They didn’t know it was growing stronger._

 _“The night it broke out it took me with it, draped over its shoulder like I weighed nothing. It moved so fast, killing twenty or more as it made its escape. It couldn’t speak, it had no tongue, must have lost it centuries before when it was still human. I’d been a warrior all my life, fighting was second nature to me, I was strong, fast but I stood no chance against a vampire. It took away every trace of pride I had in myself and my people. It would beat me mercilessly and every night would see me fucked raw, held down however it wished, unable to move, to fight. It kept me barely alive by feeding me its blood. During the day I was kept bound, often forced to sleep alongside my captor in whatever shelter it found from the sun. I tried to escape more than once in the daylight hours, but in the night it would find me, punish me.” Dion frowned. “It was a time best forgotten._

 _“I thought at first that it was almost a mindless creature, but I was wrong, it knew what it was doing. I had been a Spartan, a prideful man from a prideful race and it took that away from me, breaking both my body and my spirit. Only then did it show it’s true self. It began to remake me, care for me, teach me.” He sighed. “My making, when the time came, wasn’t tender, it was a terrifying and painful death, perhaps if it could have spoken things would have been better? We stayed together for some years after that as I learned more from my maker, then one night when I awoke he was gone. The few things he had were left behind.”_

 _“Did you try to find him?” Jamil asked._

 _He nodded. He’d felt something close to despair back then, had searched endlessly, but had come to the conclusion that his maker was gone. “I looked for him for a long time but even in the beginning I always suspected that he’d walked out into the sun. I never felt him again, not even an echo of his emotions and I had been tuned to those for so long, trained to obey and understand them.”_

 _“You sound as though you regretted his passing, did you?”_

 _“He was all I’d known for so long. He’d seen me stripped bare of all I thought I was and to reveal all that you truly are to another, have them know you with such intimacy...”_

 _“Would you know me that way?” Jamil asked him, uncertainly._

 _“I will only ever take what you give to me. I would never rip that knowledge from you.”_

 _“Have you made many vampires?”_

 _“Very few. The blood that made me was ancient and powerful and it has flowed through my veins for a long time, that power growing. I choose those I make carefully, there are less than a handful even with you.”_

 _“I will honour it and you,” Jamil told him._

 _“I have no doubt of that.”_

 _In the privacy of the fortress, Dion undressed Jamil in the candlelit room. His own making might have been the stuff of nightmares but he would not see it so for his beautiful, young lover. The room’s heavy wooden shutters were open to let in the warm night air and the sound of the sea below as the tide stirred the shore. Incense burned in the ornate braziers that hung from the ceiling, their exotic perfume drifting through the room._

 _“Beautiful,” he told Jamil, before the two of them kissed._

 _There was no longer hesitancy in his young knight; he often led their lovemaking, instigating the pleasure between them just as often as Dion. The years they had been together since Jerusalem had seen a man emerge who was confidant and self assured, liked and admired by the men who followed Dion and known for his sharp wit and ready laughter._

 _In battle he was a berserker. Dion had seen his kind many times before over his long life time, but very few of them were as skilled as Jamil. Sparta would have embraced such a son._

 _He was the perfect erômenos in Dion’s eyes, beautiful without equal, aware without any narcissistic self indulgence. One day he’d have some sculptor recreate his image like those of the kouros he remembered as a mortal man._

 _They moved to the bed together, still locked in their kiss. The exploration of each other’s mouths a long and languorous affair, fingers touching and exploring as their tongues twined and tasted._

 _Breaking such a kiss was done only reluctantly, but Dion wanted to taste the strong body beneath him, explore the curves and muscled planes of flesh he could never get enough of. He knew now where to stroke, lick, pinch and kiss to elicit the responses that made his own cock fill in anticipation. He knew how to keep Jamil on the knife edge of pleasure until he begged to be taken and given release._

 _He pushed inside the receptive body beneath him, warm oil slicking the way for his questing fingers as they stretched, explored and teased a passage for his aching cock. Jamil was soon breathless with want, the bed’s coverings clenched tightly in his fists, his head thrown back and his neck arched so beautifully that Dion’s fangs dropped expectantly._

 _He removed his fingers and let his cock nudge at the tight entrance to Jamil’s body._

 _“Please?” Jamil asked him._

 _He chuckled. “So eager.”_

 _He pushed in slowly, savouring the muscled grip of tight flesh that surrounded his cock, stilling himself with some effort when Jamil tried to push back and speed his gradual breach._

 _“Ssh, be still. I want you to feel everything, to remember each part of this night.”_

 _He nodded, teeth coming down to worry his bottom lip, green eyes closing as Dion resumed his slow penetration._

 _Once he was fully sheathed he held still, waited until Jamil’s body relaxed around him._

 _“Open your eyes. Let me see you.” Those eyes met his, wide and dark in the candlelight. He rewarded the attention by starting to move, setting a slow pace and gradually changing the angle until he could see through the lust blown intensity of those eyes, hear through the gasps of pleasure, that he was hitting that pleasure spot inside of him with every stroke. He knew the intensity of feeling every nudge to that spot elicited, the pleasure that hinged on pain._

 _Jamil’s cock was full and hard, threads of glistening precome connecting it to his belly. His balls were drawn up tight and Dion knew that he was close._

 _“Come for me.”_

 _Jamil’s back arched almost immediately, his passage tightening around Dion as he came, heart beating wildly._

 _He held his own pleasure back, waiting until Jamil’s body relaxed around him to resume the steady pace, reaching down to stroke the boy’s limp, over sensitive cock._

 _“So beautiful for me,” he told him. He increased the pace, rocking into him over and over, hand forsaking his cock to roam the responsive body._

 _“Too much,” Jamil told him. “It’s too much, please.”_

 _He was close himself now, holding himself back from a battle he knew he could no longer win. He slipped his arms around Jamil’s body, pulling him up and back, bringing himself to his knees, the boy astride him impaled on his cock. He pushed aside the dirty blonde, sun kissed hair to reveal the long line of his neck, kissing slowly down from beneath his ear to that place he desired, where the blood flowed so close to the surface. He licked that spot, tasting just a hint of what lay beneath in the salty moisture of his sweat slick skin before allowing his fangs to prick the surface of that skin and slowly biting down._

 _Jamil’s arms wrapped around him tightly, fingers digging hard into his back as Dion found that well of rich blood and came inside his lover as he drank._

 _He drank slowly, knowing how the slow draw would affect Jamil, He could feel his cock hardening where it was trapped between their two bodies. He held him close, stroked his hair, his soft skin as he savoured the gift of his blood and listened to the soft sounds of pleasure he was making, the cry when he came once again._

 _He continued to drink slowly, feeling the change in Jamil’s body as the blood loss began to weaken him, and his heart began to slow, continuing the slow comforting touches of his hands, proud that he didn’t try to fight it. When he was almost there he laid him back down on the bed, spent cock slipping from his body as he withdrew his fangs and licked over the puncture wounds, though they were barely bleeding now._

 _“You did so well,” he told him, smiling into the bright eyes that were fixed on him even now as his young lover fought for breath. “All you need to do is drink.”_

 _He cradled Jamil’s head in his lap and then bit into his own wrist, presenting it to Jamil to drink. “As much as you can,” he told him._

 _The green eyes never left him as he drank obediently. It had been a long time since Dion had made another but each time was like the first, a wonder to him. He bent close and whispered endearments, encouraging him to keep drinking. This new blood would sustain him through his own body’s death whilst replacing his own and then strengthen his body with the power passed down through who knew how many centuries. Even on first waking he would be more powerful than most of their kind, would need to feed far less, even through these first years._

 _“There now, it’s enough,” he told him, withdrawing his wrist and licking the wounds closed. “Close your eyes and sleep now,” he urged._

 _He slipped under almost immediately and Dion lifted him from the bed, carrying him down to the vault where he slept, in the catacomb beneath the fortress. He wouldn’t wake again until the next sunset. Dion left, just for a short while, he had little need to drink these days but feeding Jensen had left him with the need. He’d return soon to join him, eager to see the vampire that would rise with the setting of the sun._

Jared was staring silently up at the ceiling.

“What are you thinking?” Jensen asked him.

“I was just trying to imagine what it must have been like. Do you still remember that last sunset?”

He nodded. “I remember everything, it was the day I died and the day I was reborn.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Becoming a vampire?” Jared gave him a nod. “No.” He propped his head up on his hand and gazed down at Jared. “I’ve never regretted it, when the time comes that I do it will be time for me to walk into the sun.”

“Don’t say that,” Jared frowned. “I don’t want that to happen to you, or to Jeff.”

“It’s the furthest thought from both our minds, I promise you.”

“The things you must have seen, it’s hard to imagine.”

“Every age is extraordinary,” Jensen admitted. “So many knew things to see and to learn. Coming out like this, revealing ourselves to humanity, I never imagined something like that happening.”

“I know that feeling,” Jared laughed.

“Are you happy, Jared, this argument with Chad aside?”

Jared gave him a nod, his smile soft. “Happier than I’ve been in a really long time. I was so close to hitting rock bottom, man. I just didn’t know what to do anymore. You guys have changed everything for me.”

Jensen leant in for another kiss, licking into Jared’s mouth and exploring it’s sweetness as Jared kissed him back, long arms wrapping around him and pulling him down. It wasn’t easy to eventually break the kiss, he didn’t feel like he could ever get enough of Jared.

“I have to go,” he told him, licking the taste of him off his lips. “And you need to get some sleep. Chad...”

“I guess we need to talk, once he’s calmed down.” Jared admitted.

“I think you should.”

“Chris is going to love your new dress,” Jared told at Sandy, as they headed back to Jared’s lofts, both of them having bought new clothes to wear at his upcoming exhibition. “You look amazing in it?”

Sandy grinned. “It’s so nice, I can’t wait to wear it, Chris is gonna drool.”

“He’s crazy about you, you can see it.”Jared told her. “Can’t say I blame him.” 

“Says you.” She poked him in the ribs. “I’ve seen the way Jensen and Mr. Morgan look at you, how protective they both are. I maybe shouldn’t ask but... Are you in love with the two of them?”

“I guess I am, more than a little.” It was the first time he’d really admitted it, even to himself. “I guess that’s kinda stupid, huh?”

“No, I don’t think it is....” She sighed. “Vampires don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves Jared, but they care about you, you can see it.”

“I care about them too.” He gave her a smile. “What about you, are you in love with Chris?”

“It’s kinda complicated. A lot of the time he just infuriates me, as much as he makes me crazy with wanting him and sometimes I’m not sure if I’m thinking what I’m thinking because of the bond between us.”

“I felt that too for a couple of days afterwards,” Jared thought about both of them pretty much all the time. Who wouldn’t after a night like that? Jeff’s hands on his body, that gravel voice telling him what to do and those eyes that had seen everything. He remembered the feel of Jensen’s mouth around his cock, the long slow sex they’d had in the shower, the water cascading over that perfect body. 

“The more a vampire drinks from you the more they can feel you, your emotions and the more they feed you their blood the more you can feel them too,” she explained. “I didn’t know about the link between us at first and I kept having all these dreams about Chris, vivid dreams, if you know what I mean?”

Jared laughed. “Chris was sending you dirty dreams?”

“Real dirty,” she laughed along with him. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed today, Jared. It feels like we’ve been friends for ages.”

Jared nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s good to have someone I can talk to about all this vampire stuff.” 

“Oh yeah, they’re high maintenance, that’s for sure.”

“Come on,” Jared told her. “I don’t know about you but all this shopping has made me hungry. There’s a place just around the corner there that I went to with Misha one time.” 

“Does it have a bar? We deserve a drink.”

“Yeah, they have lots of fancy beers.”

“I could go for a beer,” she slipped her arm through his. 

They got a corner table, both ordering steaks and beer, which was just as good as Jared remembered it.

“I forgot to ask this morning,” Sandy said between bites. “Have you heard anything?”

“From Chad?” He shook his head, “Not a word. I left messages on his phone but now I think it’s turned off. I just keep getting that ‘is unable to take your call’ message.”

“Are you still angry with him?”

“No, I just miss him, y’know. Guess he’s still angry with me though, huh?”

“Well if he is then he needs to get the hell over it. He can’t dictate who you choose to care for and honestly, he can’t throw stones - not living the way he does. I like Chad, he’s nice and he’s funny and I know he cares about you, but he needs to sort his own life out.”

“Jensen thinks he’s in love with me.”

“He’s not alone there. I know Chad liked to chat me up but it was just bluster. I don’t think he meant a word of it, not really. Most of the time he’d just talk about you.”

“Really?”

“Is that so hard to imagine, it’s not like you were hit by the ugly stick, Jared Padalecki. You’re pretty easy on the eyes, honey.”

Jared blushed. “I just didn’t think Chad was so anti vampire, I didn’t think he was at all.”

“Then Jensen’s theory makes even more sense, right?” Sandy took a drink of her beer. “I lost just about every friend I had when I started seeing Chris.”

“What about your family, what do they think?”

“I lost my family a few years ago, but they were good people and they loved me. I think they would have taken to Chris.”

“I’m sorry, Sandy.” He felt for his friend, even though he didn’t have any contact with his own family he wouldn’t wish any harm on them.

“That’s okay. What about  _your_  parents.”

“They couldn’t handle me being gay so I doubt they’re going to take to Jeff and Jensen.”

“No, I guess not. We should commiserate,” Sandy decided.

“Commiserate?”

She nodded, pushing her empty dinner plate away. “Dessert,” she told him, “Chocolaty, sticky, yummy desserts that just scream over indulgence.”

Jared had nothing against that idea. “With ice-cream?”

“Absolutely.”

The exhibition was just a few weeks away and Jared found that he couldn’t stop working, even though Jeff had said that he had more than enough work to show. He had a couple of things though, things that he’d started, that he really wanted to get finished, things he’d not let Jeff take a look at yet.

He heard the bell go on the door downstairs and rubbed his paint stained hands on the cloth he kept tucked into the pocket of his jeans so he could get the intercom.

“I’ve got it, Jared!” Sandy yelled from upstairs.

“Thanks!” He forgotten Sandy was still there.

He went back to work on his painting, humming along with the song he could hear in his head.

“Jared.” 

“Hey,” he answered Sandy, eyes fixed on his painting. “Who was that at the door?”

“Jared, these are policemen; they’d like to speak to you,” Sandy’s voice was quiet.

“Policemen?” Jared looked up to see two plain clothes cops stood beside Sandy.

“Are you Mr Jared Padalecki?” The taller of the two men asked him, showing his badge.

“That’s me,” he put down his brush. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Detective Lupo and this is my partner, Detective Bernard.” The smaller man gave Jared a nod. “We need you to come down to the 27th Precinct, help us with an ongoing investigation.”

“Me?” Jared frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t understand - have I done anything?”

“Your name and address was found on a body recovered from a crime scene earlier today. It may be that you can identify the body.”

“Body, what body?” He looked over at Sandy, confused. “Who?”

“Could I come with him?” Sandy asked the detective.

“Can I ask who you are, miss?”

“Sandra McCoy, I’m Jared’s housekeeper and his friend.”

The detective’s dark eyes rested on Jared for a moment before he looked back at Sandy. “I don’t see any problem with that Miss McCoy, if Mr. Padalecki has no objection.”

“No, I-I’d like her to come,” Jared felt a shiver run down his spine as a feeling of dread settled over him.

Something had happened to Jared today. Jensen had felt his distress clearly, even through the depths of his vampire sleep. Jeff had clearly felt it too; Jensen’s house phone had been already ringing when he emerged from the vault where he slept in his apartment. His maker, being so much older, came awake before he did. Jared had been planning to spend the whole of the day painting today, he had no plans to go anywhere or do anything else, at least that was what he’d decided when he and Jeff left him last night. 

His cell phone rang, breaking him out of his thoughts and he flicked on the hands free to answer it. “Ackles.”

“It’s Kane, where are you?”

“I’m on my way to Jared’s, is there a problem?”

“He’s not there. Sandy just called; the two of them are at Manhattan’s 27th Precinct. You need to get over there as soon as you can. According to Sandy, Jared’s not doing too good.”

“Did she say what they were doing there?”

“No, she wanted to get back to Jared, she... The detective in charge of whatever’s going on is called Lupo. Sandy’s real upset, Jensen, I couldn’t get a whole lot of sense out of her. I can’t leave the club, there’s no one here...”

“I’ll go there, take care of her and I’ll let you know what’s happening.”

“Thanks, man.”

Jensen hung up, checking the traffic before he swung the car around. 

He punched the speed dial on his phone. The number connected and was answered almost instantly. 

“Have you spoken to Jared?”

“He’s not at home,” Jensen told Jeff. “I was on my way but I just got a phone call from Kane, Jared’s at Manhattan’s 27th Precinct, with Sandy, a Detective Lupo is in charge.”

“What are they doing there?”

“No idea, I’m on my way now.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Jared?” Jeff walked into the interview room Detective Lupo had directed him to, leaving Jensen to talk to the man outside.

“Jeff.” 

The boy looked terrible, his face had lost all its colour, his eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears. Sandy didn’t look much better.

Jeff gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You need to call Christian, honey, he’s worried.”

“I-I don’t have any charge,” she told him, taking the phone from her pocket, tears starting to stream down her face. “We didn’t bring Jared’s and I...”

Jeff handed her his cell. “Why don’t you call him?”

“Thank you, I-I’ll just be outside, Jared, okay?”

Jared nodded giving her what was probably the closest thing he could get to a smile. Jeff went and knelt beside Jared’s chair. “How’re you doing?”

“D-did they tell you?”

He nodded. “I spoke to detective Lupo, Jensen’s still with him. I’m sorry Jared.”

“I can’t believe it, why would anybody want to kill him?” Jared asked him. 

“I don’t know,” Jeff brushed Jared’s hair back from his face. “Chad moved in dangerous circles, drugs, prostitution,” he sighed, “It was always a risk.”

“If we hadn’t argued, if I hadn’t told him to get out...”

“No, don’t do that to yourself. Chad’s death isn’t your fault, nothing you did caused it and nothing you might have done could have prevented it.”

“I didn’t want it to be him but I-I knew, I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. Seeing him like that...” Emotion choked off whatever it was Jared wanted to say.

“Easy, it’s okay, Jared,” Jeff pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him. He’d seen his first dead body when he was seven, a boy he knew well who had fallen to his death from the rock strewn hills of Lacedaemon. He’d been taught that to show emotion, to cry, was a sign of weakness and he didn’t want to be seen as weak amongst his peers, so he had stood without expression, pushed his feelings away. Death had been a constant companion, even when he was young, and he’d become hardened to it, but the world was a savage place back then. For Jared identifying the body of his friend must have been traumatic, something Jeff would have spared him if he could.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jeff asked him.

He nodded against Jeff’s shoulder. “What about Chad, w-we can’t just leave him... He doesn’t have any family, who’s gonna..?”

“I’ll take care of it, I’ll take care of everything, I promise. Now though we need to get you and Sandy home, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Do you have any leads on who might have done this?” Jensen asked Detective Lupo.

“Our enquiries are ongoing Mr. Ackles, I can’t really say anymore than that.”

Jensen nodded. “I understand, but it might be that we can help.”

“Help how?”

“Do you know who Jeffrey Morgan is?”

Lupo shrugged. “He’s a vampire and so are you, beyond that I don’t have a clue.”

“He’s the vampire King of New York and I’m his sheriff...”

“Ackles!” Bernard, the other detective spoke up. “I  _knew_  I recognised that name.” He turned to Lupo. “You remember that snuff movie case where they were setting up those goth kids, pretending to be vampires?”

“Fuck, you’re  _that_  Ackles?” Lupo raised a surprised brow.”Some buddies of ours were involved in that case, and they had nothing but good to say about you and your people.” He shook his head, grinned. “I have to say, man, you’re not what I imagined.”

Jensen frowned. “What did you imagine?”

“I heard you kicked serious ass and I figured you’d be more WWE RAW than GQ, y’know?”

Jensen laughed. “I guess I’ll take that as a complement.”

“It was, man. That was some real bad business and from what I heard we’d have lost a lot more of those kids without your help.”

“Maybe I can help with this?” Jensen suggested.

The two detectives shared a long look before Lupo turned back to him and nodded. “How much do you know about Murray?”

“I know he was a meth addict who was into his dealer for a lot of money and that he worked as a prostitute to pay off that debt.”

“His dealer and his pimp were one and the same, a low life called Lyle Elliot AKA Spider. He’s a nasty tempered sonofabitch. Word has it that Murray wanted out, said some things he shouldn’t...”

“And this Spider killed him or had him killed?”

“Probably did it himself, a power thing, scare the rest of his stable, keep ‘em in line.”

“Any proof?”

Lupo shook his head. “People are talking but that’s it, we can’t pin the murder on him. We do know that Spider has recently started dealing V, that would kind of put this within your purview wouldn’t it?”

Jensen nodded. “In the eyes of vampire law it would.”

Lupo looked him straight in the eye. “I’ll be straight with you, I don’t know how far we’re going to get in a case like this - no one’s going to want to talk.”

“I’ll make some enquiries; it might be that people will be more eager to speak to us.”

“Anything you can give us.”

Jensen nodded. “Are we okay to take Jared home?”

“Sure, we won’t need him any further.” He frowned. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

“What’s your connection to Mr. Padalecki?”

“He’s a close friend and Mr. Morgan is his patron, he’s an artist.”

“Yeah, he was in his studio when we spoke to him,” Bernard told him. “He’s good.”

“More than good,” Jensen told him, getting to his feet. “I’ll put the word out with my people and if I hear anything then I’ll be in touch.”

Lupo nodded. “It’s appreciated, thanks.”

Jared stood beneath the shower spray, barely aware of the wash cloth he was holding in his hand. He couldn’t stop thinking about Chad, couldn’t get the image of him just lying there, lifeless, gone, out of his head. 

Someone had killed him. It seemed unreal to think that anyone would do something like that, not to Chad, he was a good guy, wouldn’t hurt anyone.

 _“... You’re lettin’ those bloodsuckers feed from you, aren’t you? You stupid bastard! ... Is this what I saved your ass for, why I took care of you? ... I took care of you, me. We were doin’ good, I was keepin’ you safe!”_

Chad’s words, the last time they saw each other came back to him and he remembered his own.

 _“Get the hell off me! ... You can’t even keep yourself safe, man... you need to leave... we can’t be friends anymore... Get out.”_

He’d said all those things and Chad had walked out, Jared hadn’t seen him again, until today. He shouldn’t have said them, if he hadn’t then maybe Chad would have stuck around, maybe this never would have happened!

“Whatever it is that’s going on in your head, Jared, you have to leave it alone. You’ve been in here for over thirty minutes and I don’t think I’ve heard you move.” Jeff’s body pressed against his from behind, his arms snaking around Jared’s waist. He hadn’t even heard him come in the bathroom.

“I told him to get out, Jeff. I made him go, if I hadn’t then maybe...”

“Don’t do this to yourself. What happened to Chad isn’t your fault, are you listening to me?”

“He-he cared about me...”

Jeff spun him around and he found himself facing the older vampire. “Yes, he did, don’t ever doubt that. I know you cared about him too.”

“He was my friend.”

“He was and you were his. What happened to Chad was a terrible thing, but it wasn’t your fault. He was murdered, Jared, murdered by a man who sold him drugs and forced him to sell his body to pay for them. You didn’t have a hand in that.”

“I k-keep seeing him, can’t get it out of my head.”

Jeff pushed Jared’s wet hair away from his face. “I’d be more worried if it didn’t bother you. Come on, let me help you wash off, then you need to sleep.”

“I don’t think I  _can_  sleep.” His mind wouldn’t let him, he knew that.

“We’ll see.” Jeff cupped his cheek and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Come on now, let’s get you showered off.”

Jared stood obediently beneath the spray while Jeff washed him, the peppermint scent of the shower gel replacing the smell of the police precinct that he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

By the time he was out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, Jensen was there, leading him into the bedroom to dry off his hair.

“Did you take Sandy home?” Jared asked him.

“She’s staying with Chris.”

“Is she okay?”

“Upset, and worried about you. She’ll call tomorrow. What about you?” Jensen asked him. “How are you doing?”

Jared shook his head, he didn’t know, this was like some kind of bad dream. “Not-not good,” he admitted.

“It will get easier, I know you don’t think so now, but it will. Sleep will help. Jeff and I will stay as long as we can, that’s if you want us to, if you’d prefer to be alone that’s okay.”

“No, don’t go,” Jared didn’t want to be alone, “ _Please_.”

Jared tossed and turned for an hour or more before between the two of them before Jeff cupped his face in his hands. 

“ _Go to sleep, Jared_.”

The words seemed to echo over and over in his head until he couldn’t think about anything else. He was tired, really tired, could hardly keep his eyes open in fact...

Apart from Jared and the minister, Sandy was the only guest at the funeral. Misha and Vicky had planned to attend but Misha had phoned Jared at four in the morning to let him know that Vicki had gone into labour. He still hadn’t heard any news but he’d turned his phone off at the funeral home. 

Chad had no living relatives, his mother had died when he was nine years old and he’d gone from one foster home to another before he decided he could take better care of himself than the state could and ran away at fifteen.

The minister had been brief but Jared had liked the way he’d spoken and what he’d said.

“He loved you, you know, in his own way,” Sandy told him.

Jared nodded. “I loved him too,” he admitted. “I’m gonna miss him.”

“Me too, no one’s gonna tell me how totally awesome my boobs are.” She laughed.

“Or that your perky ass gets them hard,” Jared grinned. “Unless Chris...”

“He’s way more subtle, old fashioned, y’know?”

“Yeah.” The two of them linked arms as they walked back up to the limousine, Jeff’s driver waiting for them. “I get that.”

“I’ll miss him and I know you will.” She patted his hand. 

“He always took care of me.”

“Are you ready to go?”

Jared took a last look at the grave and the flowers that were left there. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Did the funeral go okay?” Jeff asked, coming to sit on the couch in Jared’s studio.

Jared nodded. “Yeah, kinda sad but...”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, I guess I don’t feel as sad. Maybe it’s given me closure or something, is that what they say?”

“I’ve heard people say that. You went to see the baby too I hear.”

“Yeah,” Jared’s smile lit up his face, the first real, happy smile that Jeff had seen in weeks. “He’s just amazing, so small. He looks like Misha, don’t you think?”

Jeff chuckled. “It’s the hair.” He’d gone to the hospital to visit as soon as he’d woken up at sunset.  
“Have you been painting ever since you got back?”

He nodded.

“You don’t need anything else for the exhibition.”

“It’s something I was working on before and I stopped... I want to get it finished.”

“Can I take a look?”

“Just give me a little longer, I’m almost done.” Jeff watched him take a step back from the painting he was working on, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated, brush poised.

“I could sit and watch you paint all night, but I’m pretty certain that you probably haven’t eaten a damn thing since this morning.”

“I’ll get something later.”

Jeff checked his watch. “Jensen is picking you up some take out on his way over.”

That made him glance over. “Take out, really?”

“A chicken and bacon burger, Caesar salad, fries and a slice of chocolate fudge cake...”

“From Zefferelli’s, Misha told you?”

“He was worried you might not eat.”

Jared sighed. “He should be concentrating on Vicky and the baby, I’m fine.”

“I know, but you still need to eat. Plus Jensen arranged for an order to be delivered to Misha and Vicky. She says the hospital food is way too healthy.”

“They’re gonna make great parents, huh?”

“I think so,” he agreed. “It’s quite something, becoming a father.”

Jared looked up at him. “Jensen told me your son died.”

Jeff nodded. “When he was five, a sickness that took many that year, most of them children.”

“What was his name?”

“Isandros, he was a fine boy.”

“Did you have any daughters?”

“No,” he shook his head; Airlea had struggled to carry a child to term. “I used to think I’d like a large family, proud sons, and beautiful daughters.”

“What was your wife like?”

“Airlea was a good wife, she was strong, clever. Women were always the force behind Sparta.”

“Was she beautiful?”

He nodded. “In every way. She was tall for a woman, with long limbs, this curtain of black hair and eyes a man could lose himself in. Husky voice too, I loved to ear her laugh,” he remembered. “I haven’t thought about her in a long time.”

Jared frowned. “Do you miss her?”

“I did, but that was a very long time ago. It’s odd but, although she was my wife, I realise now that I barely knew her. We were only together a few, brief years out of the many I’ve lived.”

“You never went back, after you were made into a vampire?”

He shook his head. “No, I never considered it, but there’s no going back. Some try but the results are usually tragic, for both the vampire and his family.”

“I suppose they would be. I hadn’t really thought about it.” Jeff watched him step back from his picture.

“Is it finished?”

He nodded slowly, eyes on his work. “Yeah, I think it is. Do you want to take a look?”

Chad Murray’s face, close and vivid in vibrant colours stared out at Jeff from the painting. That gleam of wicked humour in his expression, captured perfectly on canvas.

“What do you think?”

“I think he would have loved it,” Jeff said, truthfully. “It’s good work, Jared, really good. Are you going to keep it?”

“I was thinking if it was sold we could donate the money to some kind of drug charity or, you know, something to help people like Chad. Could we do that?” Jared asked, hopefully.

“I think that’s a great idea. We could include the painting in your exhibition but let people know that it was up for auction at some later date, maybe we could get some other people, companies, like mine, to donate things?”

“Really?”

“I can get Sam and Misha working on it, once Misha’s back of course.”

“Thank you.”

Jensen watched Jared as he spoke to the arts correspondent from the New York Times. He doubted Jared had a clue who she was, he was way too relaxed; dimpled smile in place, his gestures huge and enthusiastic.

He was as at ease as he had ever seen him with strangers, talking about his art and his work with people who understood, at least to a degree. He could see the woman, Helen something-or-other, was charmed by him, as everyone had been. He was open, honest and naturally charming.

He’d come a long way in the short time since they’d first met.

Jensen did the rounds himself, talking to various people and making sure they were enjoying themselves, that their glasses were kept full by the waiters to encourage them to spend their money. He knew they were doing plenty of that, he’d already noticed how many sale tickets had been slipped off to reveal the sold ones beneath.

As he circled the room he spotted a familiar figure, looking out of place amidst the cocktail dresses and the tuxedos in his long, dark overcoat and knitted hat, and he was looking at the painting of Chad, in its place of honour in the exhibition.

“Detective Lupo, I didn’t quite have you down as an art lover.”

The detective smiled at him. “I’m not usually, but I pass this place on my way home and I saw Mr Padalecki’s name, thought I’d take a look. You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. Seeing as you’re off duty can I get you a glass of champagne?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He studied the painting. “Must be amazing to have that kind of talent.”

Jensen nodded. “It must be.”

“There was a development in the case the night before last,” Lupo told him, eyes still on the painting.

“Really?” Jensen knew Lupo’s visit wasn’t a coincidence.

“I received an anonymous tip about some kind of drugs deal that had gone sour. I went to this rundown auto shop in Queens that belonged to one Lyle Elliot.”

“Aka, Spider, the guy you suspected of killing Murray?”

“That’s the guy.” Lupo turned, rested his perceptive gaze on Jensen. “We arrived to find a lot of his guys with broken bones, that kind of injury, nothing too serious, but our friend Spider, he just couldn’t stop talking to us. He was kinda vague about how he and his men got themselves injured but he was real eager to tell us all about a shitload of other things; meth labs, their V business. He not only named a lot of names but he copped to pretty much every nasty thing he’d ever done, and that guy had done a lot of real nasty things, which included killing Murray. He gave us a full confession. You any idea why a guy like him might do something like that?”

“Perhaps he’d found god?” Jensen suggested.

“Off the record, I think we both know different.” Lupo sighed. “I don’t know what really happened, I don’t want to know but, whatever it was, it was greatly appreciated. I just wanted to tell you that.”

Jensen nodded. He’d gone with Jeff and Kane to that place, overpowering Elliot and his men had been simple enough, then Jeff had put the man in thrall, convinced him to confess to everything. He and Chris had wiped away any memory of their visit that the others had. A phone call had done the rest. It would have been simpler and way more satisfying to kill him, but in this case their hands were tied.

“Thanks for letting me know, detective.”

“Anytime, sheriff.”

Jensen watched him leave, eyes fixed on him as Jared came up beside him. “Was that Detective Lupo?”

Jensen nodded. “He wanted to let us know that the man who killed Chad has confessed to the crime.”

“They caught him?”

“Yeah, I think they got him on something else, some drugs thing.”

“That’s good news.”

Jeff came up behind the two of them winding his arms around both their waists. “Very good news, and on that, I think it’s time for us to leave. Sam will toss out any stragglers. Time the three of us had a private celebration.”

“I like that idea.” Jared smiled. 

Jared sighed. “I wish Chad could have been there tonight.” 

Jensen ran his fingers down the curve of his spine, making him shiver. “He’d have been happy for you.”

“I keep thinking...” He shook his head.

Jeff tugged at his hair. “Thinking what?”

“No, it’s just stupid stuff, it doesn’t matter.”

“Tell us,” he insisted.

“I do wish he could have been there but I’m not so sure that he would have come, that things would have gone back to how they were between us. The whole thing of me being with the two of you, I don’t know that he would have been able to accept that.”

“People change Jared,” Jensen told him. “Life isn’t as simple as we’d all like it to be. We tell ourselves that we’ve made friendships that will last a life time, but that’s a rare thing, people change all the time.”

“We would never have expect you to choose, sweetheart.” Jeff’s dark eyes met his. “You’re human, you need human friends. The vampire world isn’t an easy place for a human to live in, and if you decided tomorrow that it was too much for you to cope with, then we’d understand that. There are going to be some changes soon, the vampires who live in the United States have been talking about unification, having one overall king, for a long time. It’s something I’m in favour of and I think it’s a job I could do, but I’m not the only one. Things could turn ugly. I would understand if you didn’t want to be involved if that happened and I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to walk away. You have choices, Jared, they’re yours to make and Jensen and I will respect them.”

“That doesn’t mean that we’d want you to go,” Jensen slipped an arm around his shoulders, kissed the patch of skin on the nape of Jared’s neck. “You’re part of us now.”

Jared nodded. “Family.”

“For as long as you want to be. Life is precious and you’re young, there are so many things you haven’t done yet, places you should see in the light of day.”

“But there’s a lot to be said for the dark,” Jensen smiled. 

“As a vampire?”

Jeff nodded.

“I’m not ready for that,” Jared knew Jeff was right, he wasn’t ready for that, not yet, but one day. “Not yet.”

  
THE END

  



End file.
